Never Again
by Livin4Jesus
Summary: He had promised himself that once his weapons were destroyed, he would never return to Afghanistan. He should have known not to accept a mission that would take him back there. He should have known it would only end badly. But above all else, he should have known better than to take his best friend with him. Tony!whump. Clint!whump. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N As promised, here is my new story. Enjoy! :)**

**Thanks to _Maralexa_ for Beta(ing) this. **

**Thanks also to my best friend _MarvelAndDCWriter _who was my one-man cheerleading team and gave me the motivation to get this ready to post. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my copy of The Avengers on Blu-ray, my collection of Avengers Dr. Pepper cans, and a cardboard Walmart pizza box lid that has Iron Man on it. Yes, I pretty much keep anything that has The Avengers on it. If you think that is strange/obsessive then I am strange/obsessed. But if you think that is perfectly normal or even a little cool, then you are my new friend. :P**

**Chapter 1**

The rock music that was blaring throughout the lab and rattling the glass doors abruptly cut off, causing Tony to look up from the project he was working on.

"Hey! Jarvis, where's my music?" Tony demanded.

"My apologies, sir, but you have received a summons. Director Fury wishes to see you on board the helicarrier as soon as possible. He has sent a quinjet to retrieve you."

"Tell him I'm busy," he said, returning his attention to his project.

"Director Fury has made it quite clear that this matter is non-negotiable. Apparently it is urgent and of the utmost importance."

Tony grumbled irritably under his breath.

"Fine. But I go my way. J, prepare the suit."

**)()()(**

"I have a mission for Stark," Fury said without preamble as Clint walked into the otherwise empty meeting room.

"Okay. And this applies to me how?" Clint asked, taking a seat.

"I need you to go with him," Fury said.

"Sure. Why?" Clint replied, only half-listening as he leaned back in his chair.

"Stark is going to need a friend on this one."

"A friend?" Clint asked, instantly alert as his alarms began to go off.

"This mission is a bit... sensitive," Fury hedged.

"Will you just spit it out? Uh… sir," Clint added as an afterthought.

Fury raised an eyebrow at Clint's outburst but didn't comment.

"This mission involves going to Afghanistan. Stark may need some moral support and the rest of the Avengers are on other assignments."

"Afghanistan! Why would you send him there? You know what that place means to him," Clint said, miraculously keeping the brunt of his anger out of his voice.

"I know, but this directly concerns him and we need his expertise. If it wasn't necessary I wouldn't even tell him about it. As it is, I don't have much of a choice, but I can at least send someone with him to help. This is purely optional for you, though. You don't have to accept."

Clint gave him a hard look. "Yes, I do."

Clint wasn't dumb enough to think for one second that Fury wasn't just manipulating and using Tony. But whether he was or not, Clint was going to make absolutely sure that someone was there to have the billionaire's back.

A second later, the doors opened and said billionaire, phone in hand, strolled into the room.

"So, Captain Barbossa, what did you want to see me about?" he asked, not even bothering to look up from whatever he was doing on his phone.

"I have an assignment for you," Fury said, holding a file out to him.

Tony looked at it and raised an eyebrow. "I don't like to be handed things."

Fury tossed the file on the table in front of Tony, who was still fiddling with his phone.

"You're going to Afghanistan," Fury stated.

Tony froze.

"I don't really have time for a trip out of the country. I have some projects I'm working on, and Pepper has some meetings she wants me to go to. I might be able to get to it sometime next year. Call my assistant; she'll put something on the books," Tony flippantly replied, still seemingly playing with his phone, but Clint could tell he was just using the phone as a way to keep his hands busy.

"We have intel that suggests that there may be Stark Industries weapons there," Fury said, cutting the billionaire's excuses off.

Tony's eyes snapped up to look at Fury. "Not possible. I destroyed them all."

"Can you be sure of that? One-hundred percent?" Fury asked.

Tony stared at the SHIELD director for a long moment before he set his phone down and opened the file. Inside, there were long-range surveillance photos of weapons and crates bearing the words "Stark Industries" on the side.

"Who?" he asked through clenched teeth as he stared at the photos.

"We're not sure of that. All we know is it's a small terrorist cell," Fury replied. "Look, Stark, I'm not going to force you to take this—"

"I'll do it," Tony said cutting him off. "It's my problem; I'll take care of it."

"And I'm coming with you," Clint said, speaking up for the first time since Tony entered, while forcing himself not to glare at the director. He had been right about the manipulation.

Tony finally looked up from the pictures. "That's not necessary, Feathers, but thanks anyway."

"Thanks for what? Oh, you thought I was being generous and self-sacrificing? I thought you knew me better than that. I'm not going for you, I just don't have anything better to do," Clint said nonchalantly.

The truth was, there was no way Clint was letting his friend go on this mission alone, and by the look on Tony's face, he knew that. But rather than calling him on it or making some snarky comment, Tony simply nodded, and Clint would later swear that he saw gratitude shining in his friend's eyes.

**)()()(**

Sometime later, they arrived at the target area and Clint landed the quinjet about a mile from the target's location.

"All right, Clarence, time for you to earn your wings."

"You did _not_ just make an _It's a Wonderful Life_ reference," Clint said.

"I didn't? Hmm. I could have sworn I did," Tony replied, tapping his chin in thought.

"Oh, just shut up and get it over with," Clint huffed, turning his back to his teammate.

"Oh, come on Cupid, this is the fun part," Tony said hooking his arms under Clint's.

His thrusters ignited and he and Clint rose off the ground. Once they were about twenty feet in the air, Tony punched it, sending them rocketing toward the weapons site, Clint dangling from his arms.

"What part of this is fun?" Clint shouted as the ground rushed past beneath them.

The only reply he received was the sound of Tony's somewhat-maniacal laugh, which just supported Clint's theory that his teammate was completely and totally bonkers.

It was only about a minute later that Tony set them down behind a rock outcropping overlooking the small valley where the weapons were piled. For just a moment, Tony had to pause as memories assaulted him. A small valley…weapons piled up…it was just too similar to another area of Afghanistan. But it was not the time or place for a walk down memory lane, so he shook his head slightly and forced the thoughts from his mind. Unknown to him, Clint hadn't missed his reaction, but the archer kept it to himself.

"What do you have in mind? And don't say 'go down there and destroy the weapons' because I already know that part," Clint said.

"There's no one down there right now, but contrary to popular belief, I'm not stupid enough to think there's not anyone hiding around here somewhere. Now I know you'll probably say we need to go with the stealth approach: sneak down there, set the weapons to blow, and get out without anyone seeing us."

"Actually I was thinking we blow the weapons and see what happens," Clint said with a shrug and a smirk.

Tony stared at him in surprise a moment before recovering. "You know, I like the way you think, Legolas."

He fired his thrusters and flew closer to the pile of weapons, where he hovered several feet off the ground. He targeted the pile and fired his repulsors. The beams of energy hit the weapons, and a massive explosion rocked the area, sending Tony flying backward a few feet before he regained control and slowed his momentum.

Clint, on the other hand, ducked down behind the rock outcropping, hands clamped over his ears, as he rode out the explosion. It was just seconds after the fire and vibrations died down that shouts could be heard followed by gunfire and metal hitting metal. Clint peeked over his cover to see men with machine guns firing at Tony, while he fired back, taking out several men. Clint drew his bow and began picking off their attackers while at the same time radioing in to report to Coulson via the comm link in his ear.

"Hawkeye to Coulson."

"Coulson here. Go ahead, Hawkeye," Phil replied after a few seconds.

"We've destroyed the weapons, but we're taking fire," Clint said.

"Do you need back-up?" Phil asked.

"Not yet," Clint replied, loosing another arrow.

"I'll have agents standing by just in case. Keep me informed."

"Will do. Hawkeye out," Clint replied.

The fighting continued for ten more minutes before Tony and Clint finished off the last remaining terrorist. Once the last man was down and the gunfire had ceased, Clint stood from his hiding place and began to make his way down to where the weapons were, collecting arrows as he went. Tony met him at the edge of where the weapons had been stacked, and they surveyed the area, making sure that not one scrap of a single weapon was left intact.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we did some damage," Tony said as his helmet retracted into the suit.

"What gave you that idea? The burning rubble or the dead bodies?" Clint asked with a smirk.

"Actually Jarvis told me," he replied, causing Clint to chuckle.

"I'll let Phil know," Clint said, reaching for his comm. "Hawkeye to Coulson."

"I read you. Go ahead."

"Situation handled. Weapons have been destroyed, and unfriendlies have been neutralized," Clint reported.

"Good work. Report back to base."

"Will—"

Clint was cut off by a deafening explosion.

"What the- Tony look out!" Clint cried as a bolt of energy flashed out of nowhere.

Tony responded instinctively to Clint's warning and hit the ground just as the beam shot overhead, missing him by inches.

"Hawkeye! Barton, come in!" Coulson shouted over the comm, having heard the explosion and Clint's shout over the radio.

Clint was too busy ducking behind cover and trying to spot their attackers to respond.

"Tony! Do you have a fix on them?" Clint yelled through the comm.

"No. Jarvis can't detect any life forms. They must be masking themselves somehow," Tony answered, his helmet just sliding back into place as he narrowly avoided another hit.

"We need to find them. We're sitting ducks in this valley!" Clint cried.

"Iron Man! Hawkeye! What is going on?" Coulson yelled in Clint's and Tony's ears.

"We're under attack. Some kind of energy weapon. We can't get a fix on our attacker's location. Tony!" Clint cried as Tony took a hit and was sent sprawling to the ground.

"I'm okay," he said picking himself up off the ground and taking cover behind some rocks about ten yards to Clint's left, "But I think we could use some help here," Tony said, addressing Phil.

"Reinforcements are already on the way," Coulson replied from the base several miles away. "ETA three minutes. Just lay low until they get there."

Neither one of them got the chance to reply as another energy blast, this one from behind them, hit the rocks next to Clint.

"Clint, move!" Tony cried.

He didn't need to be told twice. He leapt to his feet and ran toward Tony, but he never made it. He was about halfway there when another massive explosion shook the air. Clint heard Tony scream and point behind him and the archer spun around just in time to glimpse a piece of debris flying straight for his head before everything went black.

**)()()(**

Tony watched in horror as Clint was struck in the head by some scrap of metal and slammed into the ground.

"Clint!" Tony screamed.

"Stark! What happened?" Phil cried.

"Clint took a hit to the head. He's down."

"Is he alive?" Phil asked.

"Jarvis?" Tony questioned.

"Agent Barton's vitals are strong and stable. He is, however, unconscious," the AI responded.

Tony was just about to make a mad dash for Clint when a man appeared from behind some rocks and pointed a weapon at Clint. The man reminded Tony of someone, but he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out who. He didn't have long to ponder it, anyway, as the man began to speak.

"Come on out, Iron Man, or your friend dies," the man said in slightly accented English.

"Don't do it, Tony," Phil said through the comm.

The man reached down, grabbed the back of Clint's shirt, and yanked the unconscious archer's upper body off the ground.

"Do not make the mistake of believing that I am bluffing. I will kill him," the man called out as he dug the barrel of the gun into Clint's temple.

"Tony—"

"Sorry Phil. I don't have a choice," Tony said as he stood up and moved out from behind the rocks.

"Very good," the man said patronizingly. "Now, remove the suit."

He hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was take off his suit.

"Stark, just stall. Help is on the way."

The click of the man's weapon being cocked was loud enough that even Phil heard it through the comm.

"Sorry again, Phil. Jarvis, keep the comm lines open and remove the suit," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Jarvis said, and Tony denied that he heard sadness in the AI's voice.

The suit disassembled and fell away from his body. Tony suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable but whether it was due to the loss of the suit or the loss of the lifeline that was his comm, he wasn't sure.

"What do you want?" he asked the man standing in front of him.

"Oh, it's very simple, Mr. Stark. I want you. You belong to me now."

Tony's heart began to pound. He was going to be taken captive again.

"And if you're planning on fighting back, then think again. Your friend here will be coming with us. One wrong move and he will be killed. If you cooperate, however, then he will live. Do you understand?"

Tony's chest constricted in fear, for himself and for Clint, and all he could do was nod.

"Good, now if you'll follow my men."

Two more men approached them. One of them grabbed Tony's arms and tied them behind his back. The other man grabbed Clint and threw the unconscious archer over his shoulder. Tony was then lead to a chopper that was hidden nearby and he and Clint were shoved inside. One of the men climbed in with them while the other man and their leader sat up front. The man in the back with them produced a hood and put it over Tony's head, blindfolding him.

Then the engine started, the chopper blades spun, and the helicopter lifted from the ground to take them to a place as yet unknown.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you so much for all of the reviews guys! I'm glad you are all liking it. As requested by many of you, here is an update. Enjoy! :)**

**Thanks to _Maralexa _for the Beta! **

**Chapter 2**

"Iron Man? Stark, come in!" Phil yelled into the comm.

"Mr. Stark has removed the suit, Agent Coulson," Jarvis informed him. "But he has instructed me to keep the comm lines open for you."

"Put it through, Jarvis," Phil said.

"_What do you want?" _Phil recognized Tony's voice.

"_Oh, it's very simple, Mr. Stark. I want you. You belong to me now." _

Phil didn't like the sound of that. "What's our ETA?" he asked no one in particular.

"Two minutes, sir," one of the pilots replied.

"That's going to be too late," Phil murmured. _Come on, Tony, stall,_ he thought.

"_And if you're planning on fighting back, then think again. Your friend here will be coming with us. One wrong move and he will be punished. If you cooperate, however, then he will be left alone. Do you understand?" _

Phil assumed Tony must have nodded or something because there was only silence for a moment before the unknown man spoke again.

"_Good, now if you'll follow my men."_

Phil heard some scuffling and the sound of footsteps retreating, followed minutes later by the distant sound of a helicopter taking off. Phil cursed before turning to the SHIELD pilot again.

"Get Director Fury on the line. Tell him we have a situation."

**)()()(**

When the backup teams landed, they stepped off the planes into what could only be referred to as a war zone. There were dead bodies littering the ground, large craters that had been blasted into the rocks and sand, and small fires still burning in several areas.

"Fan out!" Phil ordered. "And be careful. We don't know how many hostiles may still be out there."

The agents moved about, weapons at the ready while Coulson stayed back and surveyed the scene. From what he could tell, the weapons were all destroyed. That part seemed easy—too easy. All of them were just sitting out in the open. It was almost as if they wanted the weapons to be found on purpose. But why? What sense could that possibly make?

After several minutes of searching, it was clear that the only sign of Clint or Tony was Clint's bow and Tony's suit, which had been left lying where they had fallen. Phil walked over to the disassembled Iron Man suit and knelt beside it.

"If only you had waited a few more minutes Tony," Phil whispered, but he knew Tony couldn't have done anything differently or Clint would be dead.

His thoughts were interrupted by his earpiece beeping.

"_Agent Coulson, any sign of them?"_ Fury asked.

"Negative, sir," he responded. "We were too late. Barton and Stark are gone."

Phil could practically hear Fury scowling as he considered their options. As it stood at the moment, a former high-grade, military weapons designer and a level nine SHIELD agent were missing, taken by an unknown assailant. The kind of information that Tony and Clint possessed was far more than just valuable, and if the men who took them wanted that information, there was no telling what would be done to them to get it.

"_Keep me posted," _Fury said at length.

"Will do sir," Phil promised.

After disconnecting with Fury, Coulson glanced around, wiping sweat off his brow. He remembered touring in Afghanistan and also remembered how he never wanted to return to the place. At least he wasn't getting shot at this time; that helped a little.

"Sir, over here!" An agent called out to him. "I think you'll be interested in this."

Phil jogged up to the agent who was scanning what was left of the pile of weapons.

"What is it, Pierce?"

"Sir, from what I can tell from the remaining debris, these aren't Stark weapons," Pierce replied, studying the readings on his scanner.

"What do you mean they aren't Stark weapons? Are you sure?" Phil asked.

"Yes, sir, I'm positive," Pierce assured. "They may be similar to Stark weapons and they may even have been inspired by them, but they were not made by SI. It may have said 'Stark Industries' on the crates, but these weapons were poor imitations at best.

Coulson was silent a moment, thinking about what all of it could mean. The weapons were too easy to find, and not really made by Stark...

"Sir, it was a set up!" Coulson barked into his comm.

"_What?"_ Fury asked, confused.

"The weapons were too easy to find. They knew we would send for Stark since he's been here before and they were supposedly his weapons. They were also too easy to destroy, just sitting out in the open like that. Plus, they weren't even really Stark weapons; they were just made to look that way. They just needed to draw him out into the open. It was all a trap from the beginning," Phil explained.

"_It all makes since now," _Fury said._ "I thought we found those stockpiles a little too easily." _

"How did we even find out about them, anyway?" Phil asked.

"_The location was sent to us by an anonymous source," _Fury growled. _"We played right into their hands." _He paused for a moment. _"The helicarrier is en route to your location. I'm calling in Romonoff and sending reinforcements your way. We need to find them, and the sooner the better."_

"Yes, sir, and I'll go ahead and start organizing a search on my end."

"_Once you're finished with that, get back to the helicarrier."_

"Yes, sir." He disconnected with Fury and turned back to the handful of agents with him. "All right, listen up. As of now, two high-level assets have been abducted by unknown hostiles. They went through a lot of trouble to capture them, and now it's up to us to get them back. Reinforcements are on the way to help us begin searching for them. I want all of you to get ready for their arrival. Gather up whatever you will need. These are two of our own; we have to do whatever it takes to get them back. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the group chorused.

"Let's bring them home."

**)()()( **

Tony couldn't be sure how long the ride was, but he guessed it was somewhere around an hour later that the chopper landed. He was pulled out and pushed and dragged forward for several minutes before they stopped and the hood was jerked off his head by the first guard who he had decided to dub Tweedledee. Tweedledee untied his hands and stepped back to stand in the doorway. Tony looked around to see he was in a ten-by-ten foot room.

_Scratch that. A ten-by-ten foot _cell_, _Tony thought as he caught sight of the door.

The door was open, allowing Tony to see the outside of it. It had only one handle which, of course, was on the outside. It was also equipped with bolt locks and a small slot with a sliding plate over it, which was also on the outside. All in all, it looked far too similar to the doors that had been at the entrance to a certain cave that Tony really didn't want to think about.

Tony turned away from the door to survey the rest of the room. There wasn't much to see. Just four stone walls. Thankfully, these were man-made, entirely constructed of concrete bricks and mortar. Other than that the room's only feature was a lonely light bulb dangling from a single wire hanging from the ceiling. He had been in worse, but he had also definitely been in better.

His criticism of the room was interrupted as Tweedledum joined his buddy in the doorway, Clint once again slung over his shoulders. He walked inside and unceremoniously dropped the archer onto the hard dirt floor. Next, the leader entered.

"Welcome to your new home. I hope you find it to your liking," the leader said with a leer.

_All right, I've got to come up with a better name than 'the leader.' The boss? No that's just as boring as 'the leader.' El Jefe? Better, but still too overused. Let's see, the guy is obviously the head-honcho—That's it! Head-honcho. Perfect._

"What do you want with us?" Tony asked once he finished his internal monologue.

"With him?" He motioned to Clint. "Nothing. He's just insurance. You're the one I want."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Okay, what do you want with _me_?"

"That is simple. I want revenge," Head-honcho replied.

"Revenge? Why? I've never even met you before," Tony said. _I think, _he added mentally.

"No, but you've met my brother," he replied.

Tony stiffened as the pieces clicked into place. He suddenly realized why the man had seemed so familiar. The voice, the facial features—they were so similar to another man's; a man who had haunted his nightmares.

"Raza," Tony whispered.

"I'm pleased to see you remember. Now you know why you are here." The man's smirk suddenly turned deadly. "You are going to pay for what you did to him."

Tony swallowed thickly. This man was the brother of the person who had held him captive for three months, the man who had tortured him, the man who had killed Yin—many innocent people. If this man was anything like Raza, then Tony was sure this guy was not someone he wanted to meet, let alone be taken captive by.

"And in case you were wondering, your friend is here to keep you in line. As long as we have him, you will be far less likely to try to escape. You may be willing to risk your own life, but I am fairly certain you will not gamble with the life of your friend. We have gone through far too much trouble capturing you to let you escape."

"Far too much trouble," Tony mumbled to himself, the pieces clicking into place. "You set up the weapons. It was a trap!"

"Very good, Mr. Stark. Yes, we set up the weapons and made sure you heard about it. We knew your own weapons would bring you, and we also hired the men you encountered. You were expecting an attack, so you were on your guard. After the initial attack, you relaxed, thinking you had finished everyone off, which allowed us to catch you off guard. Really, you made it far too easy," Head-honcho explained.

"Were they even my weapons?" Tony asked, already pretty sure of the answer.

"No," the man said with a smirk. "They were just of a similar type to yours. We put your name on them ourselves."

Tony silently seethed. It had been a trap and he had walked right into it. Now he and Clint were in danger because he had been stupid and short-sighted.

"Now then, I will leave you to get settled in," the man said with another smirk as he and his men left, the door slamming behind them.

Tony was really starting to wish he could wipe that look off the guy's face, but he knew it would only cause trouble. And Head-honcho had been right when he said that Tony wouldn't risk Clint. He wouldn't—couldn't—lose another friend.

"Not again," he whispered.

He moved over and crouched down beside the archer and began looking him over. He checked Clint's pulse and breathing, finding them both to be strong and steady. He also took stock of the wound on Clint's forehead, obviously the cause of the archer's unconscious state. He gently pressed around the wound, glad when the skull underneath seemed to still be intact. For as hard as Clint had been hit, the gash wasn't as big as Tony had expected, and the bleeding had mostly stopped. It was swollen and ugly but it could have been worse.

"Clint. Clint. Come on, Bird Brain, wake up," Tony said, tapping his friend's cheek in an attempt to wake the man. Clint didn't so much as twitch, though, so Tony removed his long sleeved shirt, balled it up, and put it under the archer's head, leaving himself wearing just his white undershirt. Then he ripped a few strips of fabric off of his cargo pants and used them to bandage Clint's wound. Tony may have been a genius but he wasn't a doctor so there wasn't much more he could do for his friend. So he sat down next to Clint, leaned back against the wall, and resigned himself to wait (it was either that or sleep, and there was no way he was going to be willing or able to do that) for either Clint to wake up, for SHIELD to find them, or for Head-honcho and the Tweedle Twins to return. Tony really hoped the first two happened before the last one.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks for the reviews guys! They make my day! For those of you who are wondering where the rest of The Avengers are, don't worry, they will be in the next chapter. A little warning on this chapter: there are descriptions of torture in this chapter, nothing gory but this fic is rated T for a reason. **

**Thanks to _Maralexa _for the beta!**

**Chapter 3**

An unknown amount of time later, Tony was roused from the doze that he had unintentionally fallen into, by the sound of the door opening. Head-honcho entered the cell flanked by the Tweedle Twins. Tony leapt to his feet and protectively stood in front of Clint; although, what he thought he could actually do against three armed men, he didn't know.

"Ah, I see your friend is still sleeping. Perhaps you would like for us to wake him," Head-honcho said, motioning to his guards.

The guards moved toward the unconscious archer, but Tony wasn't going to stand for it. He started throwing punches, feeling great satisfaction as he connected with the men. His victory was short-lived, though. The men quickly recovered and Tweedledee threw a mighty right hook, catching Tony in the face and splitting his lip. Before Tony could recover, Tweedledum caught his temple with a vicious punch, sending the billionaire to the ground before they moved toward Clint again.

"No! No! You can't take him!" Tony yelled as he scrambled to his feet and placed himself between the men and the unconscious archer once more.

Head-honcho barked something in Arabic and the men stopped.

"Perhaps you would care to take his place?" he said in English.

Tony paused. He knew what the man was doing. He was playing mind games. He didn't just want to hurt Tony; if so he wouldn't be going through this whole song and dance. He would have just taken Tony by force. But instead, he wanted Tony to volunteer, to give in and submit to him.

Tony looked at Clint a moment. He was under no illusions as to what would be awaiting him if he agreed. But he also had no doubt that Head-honcho wouldn't hesitate to hurt Clint just to make Tony suffer and break. Tony had already lost one friend to the man's brother, and he didn't want to lose another. He hadn't been able to save Yinsen, but just maybe he could save Clint.

"If I take his place, will you leave him alone?" Tony asked, already pretty sure of the answer.

"If you submit, then your friend will go untouched," Head-honcho confirmed.

"Deal," he agreed without hesitation.

Head-honcho barked something to the guards and they grabbed Tony, jerked his shoes and remaining shirt off, and tossed them next to Clint. Then they grabbed Tony by the arms and led him from the cell. True to his word, he didn't fight them. He let himself be led from the room and down the hallway where he was pulled into another room and dragged to stand in the center of the seemingly empty space.

He watched curiously as Tweedledee walked over to some contraption on one wall and cranked a handle. He heard a jingling from above him and looked up to see some chains hanging from the ceiling, which lowered with every crank of the handle. Tony got an uneasy feeling as he began to understand what was about to happen. Just as he expected, once the chains were at chest level, Tweedledum grabbed his bound hands and attached them to the chains.

He stood there, hands dangling at chest level for a few minutes before Head-honcho entered the room. Tony vaguely took note of the fact that all three men were now masked, but he didn't have time to think about why because, at a signal from his leader, Tweedledee began cranking the handle again. Tony's hands began to rise higher and higher. The cranking continued until he was suspended in the air, his shoulders aching, and his feet swinging about a foot off the ground. Tony focused on keeping his breathing calm and as deep as he could as his shoulders and wrists began to throb.

Head-honcho stood behind Tony, and at a signal from him, the two guards began to pummel the billionaire with their fists. Tony gritted his teeth and refused to make a sound other than the occasional grunt. But it was when a fist connected with an already-tender spot on his side, and he heard—and felt—something crack, that he couldn't hold back a scream, but he did muffle it. Eventually, they stopped, and Tony worked on catching his breath. Even though he knew it would probably only make things worse, Tony still couldn't resist taunting them a bit.

"That all you got?"

Tony was soon to regret those words, though. His breath caught and he felt his blood turn cold as he watched Tweedledee place a coil of leather into Head-honcho's outstretched hand. It took Tony only a split second to recognize the leather for what it was. A bullwhip.

Tony's breathing accelerated as he fought to keep control. Head-honcho moved behind him and Tony tensed in anticipation. He jumped violently at the sudden deafening crack as Head-honcho popped the whip. The pain Tony expected never came, though, and it took him a minute to realize that he hadn't been hit. Yet. His heart pounded and his breaths came in short gasps. His whole body tensed like a coiled spring and there was nothing he could possibly do to make himself relax.

He didn't have to wait like that for long, though, as there was another loud snap, this one accompanied by a searing pain in his back. Tony could only muffle the scream that tried to rip its way from his throat. Lash after lash tore into his back with a horrible crack. With each stripe of agony, Tony fought to restrict his pained cries, but was only partially successful. Finally, it stopped, and Tony was left panting and shuddering as he swung from the ceiling. His wrists and shoulders screamed at him, and he could no longer feel his hands, but he could feel something wet rolling down his back and he was pretty sure it wasn't sweat.

He saw Tweedledee walk over to a small table that he hadn't noticed before, and pick something up. As he returned, Tony was able to see that the man was holding a knife.

_Well, this probably isn't going to be fun,_ Tony thought.

"Is there any chance that's for cutting some cheese to go with some wine?" Tony asked as he looked at the knife.

His only answer was a swift cut across his chest just below his collarbones. He grunted more from surprise than the pain, although there was plenty of that too. Another cut took residence underneath the first, this one made by Tweedledum who also had a knife. Tweedledee followed with a third cut, which was actually two cuts, one on each side of his arc reactor. This continued until he had six (or five and two halves) cuts across his chest. On the last cut, the knife was brought across his torso, but instead of a straightforward cut like the others, this one took a lifetime as the knife was slowly dragged across his flesh.

Despite his best efforts, Tony let out a muffled cry. Once the cut was made, Tweedledum stepped back and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. But the instant he relaxed, he was suddenly doused with something wet and a millisecond later his chest and back exploded in white hot agony. There was no way to hold back, muffle, or otherwise control the scream that burst from him. It seemed a lifetime before the pain finally eased. As the pain approached bearable, and his wits began to return to him, a word drifted through his muddled thoughts.

_Alcohol! _

They had thrown alcohol on him.

"Sorry about that," Head-honcho said in a tone that made it clear that he was anything but. "We don't want you getting some kind of infection. Now do we?"

If Tony had had the strength to spit in the man's face, he would have, but as it was, he simply hung there, panting and trembling, and at first he didn't even notice that the ground was growing closer as the chains were lowered. But when his feet finally touched the floor again, his legs refused to hold him up and he buckled to the ground, his arms screaming as his circulation was restored. He laid on his side, just trying to catch his breath as Tweedledum untied his hands.

"I believe Mr. Stark has had enough for now. Go get Barton," Head-honcho ordered his men.

Somewhere, Tony found the strength to snap his head up and glare at the men. "You can't! You said you would leave him alone if I took his place!" Tony yelled (or he tried to but his voice came out as a hoarse croak), partially outraged and partially desperate.

Head-honcho held up a hand and the men stopped. "I did say that, didn't I?" he said. "All right, Mr. Stark, your friend is safe. For now."

Tony's body went slack with relief. What he went through, what he had endured, was only worth it if it appeased the sadistic madman enough to keep Clint out of the line of fire. If his pain ultimately spared the archer, then, and only then, would this nightmare have any meaning for him.

Tony was dragged out of the room, his legs still refusing to work properly. He was thrown into his cell where he wobbly landed on his hands and knees. He stayed there for several minutes until he felt he could move without falling on his face. He managed to slowly crawl over to Clint's side and check the archer's condition. Finding Clint still unconscious but all right, Tony allowed himself to collapse next to his friend and give into the ever increasing pull of sleep.

**)()()(**

"Boss, the video has been sent to SHIELD," the man, who Tony had taken to referring to as Tweedledum, said. "If I may ask, why didn't you send any demands?"

"Because I don't want anything from them," Tweedledum's boss, also known as Head-honcho, answered.

"Then why send the video at all?"

"I said I didn't want anything _from _them, but I do want them to watch the video and feel the pain and helplessness of knowing there is nothing they can do to help their friend."

"Oh, I see," Tweedledum said.

Head-honcho started to leave the room, but stopped at the door and turned back.

"Don't forget to feed and water Stark in a few hours. I don't want him dying too soon," he said with an evil grin.

Then Tweedledum watched his boss leave the room and made a mental note to never get on the man's bad side.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Once again thank you guys so much for all of the reviews! For those of you who are wanting a lot of Tony!whump don't worry I will not disappoint. There will be plenty of Tony getting hurt. For those of you wanting Clint!whump, there will be a decent amount of that too but not until later chapters. Also I had a few people ask when Clint is going to wake up. Don't worry he will but it will be a little bit later on in the story. **

**Now, in this chapter we need to focus on the rest of the team. But never fear, Tony and Clint will be back in the next chapter. :)**

**Thanks to the awesome _Maralexa _for the excellent beta!**

**Chapter 4**

Natasha set the quinjet down on the deck of the helicarrier before she, Bruce, Steve and Thor disembarked.

"I wonder what all of this is about," Bruce said.

"I don't know, but let's find out," Steve replied as they headed toward the bridge.

They practically burst onto the bridge where Fury and Coulson were in deep discussion over something. They looked up at the team's arrival.

"What are you three doing here?" Fury asked Bruce, Steve, and Thor.

"I brought them," Natasha said.

"You weren't ordered to do that," Fury snapped.

"Tony and Clint are part of our team. If they're in trouble, then we're going to help," Steve stated.

"What makes you think it's about Stark and Barton?" Fury deflected.

"They went on a mission, and we haven't heard from them, and they're not here so it stands to reason that something happened," Bruce said.

"How did you know they were on a mission?" Fury asked, starting to grow frustrated with all of the information they seemed to have.

"They called and told us before they left," Bruce answered simply.

"Doesn't 'classified' mean anything to you people?" Fury asked, exasperated.

"We're a team. We don't keep secrets about important things like that," Steve explained.

"So what is going on?" Natasha asked, bringing the conversation back to the subject at hand.

Fury and Coulson shared a look before Phil heaved a sigh and began filling them in.

"Tony and Clint were on assignment in Afghanistan. They had completed their mission and were about to head back when there was a surprise attack. Clint was knocked out and before Tony could get to him, their attackers grabbed him. They threatened to kill Clint if Tony didn't cooperate," Phil explained.

"Phil, where are Tony and Clint?" Bruce asked, already knowing the answer.

"They're gone. They've been taken captive."

"By who?" Natasha asked.

"We don't know that yet," Fury interjected. "But we're working on it."

"We've got search teams on the ground," Phil added.

"What do these men want with our friends?" Thor asked.

"We're not sure of that either, but it can't be anything good," Phil replied.

"Well, what _do _we know?" Steve asked irritably.

"We know—"

"Sir, we are receiving a video transmission," one of the SHIELD techs said to Fury.

"Not now!" Fury snapped at the interruption.

"Sir, it was sent by someone claiming to have Mr. Stark and Agent Barton," the tech said.

Six heads snapped up, instantly alert.

"What are you waiting for? Put it on!" Fury ordered as he and the others turned to the monitor.

The screen was blank for a moment before an image flickered onto it. They all froze at the sight before them. On the screen, they saw Tony standing in the middle of a room shirtless, with his hands tied to some chains and hanging at chest level in front of him. He was a little rumpled with a split lip and a bruise on his face but otherwise seemed to be fine. There were two masked men in the room with him and as they watched, a third masked man entered and signaled one of the other men, who began to crank a handle on the wall. The chains rose and a minute later Tony was dangling about a foot off the floor.

With another unspoken command from the third man, the first two moved forward and began beating Tony. They pummeled his chest, stomach, and face for several minutes. Through it all, Tony refused to make a sound, only grunting occasionally. At one point, one of the men landed a particularly hard hit to Tony's side, causing the billionaire to let loose a muffled cry of pain.

After a few minutes, the third man signaled them again. They stepped away from Tony, allowing the viewers to see the billionaire's state. Tony had a bloody nose and his lip had reopened. He had a cut on his cheek and another bruise forming on his jaw. His torso was already bruising and one rib looked out of place, probably broken. Tony hung there, panting.

"That all you got?" Tony said.

The third man, who was obviously the leader, held out a hand and goon number one placed what looked like a coiled up strap or rope in his hand. Bruce suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, causing the others to look at him.

"What?" Natasha asked, worried that Bruce might be losing control.

"It's a whip," Bruce said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The others' faces took on looks of horror as they looked back at the screen. There was a loud crack as the leader popped the whip, causing those on the bridge to flinch involuntarily.

"I can't watch this," Bruce murmured, but he didn't look away. He felt like he would somehow be betraying Tony if he did.

So instead he watched as the leader whipped Tony, causing grunts and cries of pain to come from his friend. He watched as the whipping ended and the chains swung and twisted slightly, turning Tony just enough to get a glimpse of his bloody back before he was turned back around again. Bruce felt a little green and not in the Hulk way. One look around the room told him he wasn't the only one.

His attention was drawn back to the video as the two men that had beaten Tony suddenly walked off screen and returned a moment later holding something in their hands. It didn't take the team long to realize that the objects were knives.

"Is there any chance that's for cutting some cheese to go with some wine?" Tony asked.

Those watching the video couldn't help but roll their eyes. It was just so _Tony, _throwing out insults, angering his captors, and being an all-around pain in the butt.

Goon number one moved over to Tony and without warning swiped the blade horizontally across Tony's chest. Tony grunted but otherwise held his tongue. The second man brought his knife down sliding the blade across Tony's chest right below the first cut. Again and again the knives cut Tony's skin, until he had six cuts across his chest.

Through it all, Tony somehow kept quiet, refusing to give his captors the satisfaction. It wasn't until the sixth cut that he let out another muffled scream. The goon pressed the knife to Tony's torso but this time he didn't just cut Tony. He slid the blade painfully and agonizingly slowly across Tony's ribcage, making the cut last as long as he could.

Finally the guy stepped back and Tony relaxed just a bit. But as soon as the reprieve came it was gone, as goon number one dumped some kind of liquid over Tony's shoulders, causing it to run down his back and chest. Tony let out a horrible, agonized, bloody-murder scream.

Those watching the video realized with sickening horror that the liquid that had been poured over Tony's open wounds was in fact isopropyl alcohol.

"Sorry about that. We don't want your wounds getting infected. Now do we?" the leader said with a tone of amusement in his voice.

Just about everyone in the room felt their blood boil; even those who weren't particularly fond of Tony felt anger rise up in them. No one, regardless of how irritating, or self-absorbed, or how big of a jerk they were, should be submitted to something like that. And if the people who didn't like Tony felt that way then it only took one look at the four Avengers in the room to feel completely terrified. Even mild mannered Bruce Banner had such a dangerous and frightening expression—the likes of which could rival even the Hulk himself. The dark and murderous expressions on their faces made every last person, including Fury (though he would never show it or admit it), feel extremely glad that they were on the same side as Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

To the immense relief of the viewers, a few minutes later Tony was lowered back to the ground.

"I believe Mr. Stark has had enough for now. Go get Barton," the leader ordered.

Tony came to life again. His head jerked up, and he glared at his captors with a fire that the others were used to seeing in Tony but that had been disturbingly absent since the start of the video.

"You can't! You said you would leave him alone if I submitted!" he cried hoarsely.

The others stood, stunned. Tony had apparently willingly submitted to the treatment in order to protect Clint. He was doing that, going through all that pain, for Clint. The others didn't know whether to be proud of the snarky billionaire or angry at him for being so self-sacrificing.

The leader paused a moment before holding up a hand, stopping the goons. "I did say that, didn't I?" he said. "All right, Mr. Stark, your friend is safe. For now."

Tony seemed to almost pass-out with relief. From what Tony and the leader had said, the others guessed that Clint must have been all right, or at least they hoped so. But the fact that Tony had managed to sacrifice himself for Clint worried them a bit. They knew the archer well enough to know that he would have fought kicking and screaming before letting Tony face torture.

They knew from Phil that Clint had taken a blow to the head, and they were concerned to say the least, since they had no idea how serious the injury might be. Obviously Clint was still alive, but in what condition, they didn't know.

Back on the screen, the two goons picked Tony up and dragged him from the room. Then the leader walked toward the camera until his face filled up the screen. Although they couldn't see anything but his eyes, those watching swore the man smiled before the screen went black.

Everyone stood, shocked and horrified, staring at the blank screen. It was almost completely silent, and the only sound in the room came from Bruce as he breathed deeply in search of control of his overwhelming rage. The silence was eventually broken when Fury spoke.

"Do we know where this was sent from?" he demanded of the techs.

"We're working on it, sir," the tech who had played the video said, "but it was bounced all over the world before reaching us. We're trying to back-trace it, but it's going to take time."

"Make it sooner rather than later, Agent," Fury commanded angrily. "And start on a voice analysis on the leader's voice. See if it matches any we have on file."

"Yes, sir!"

"Fury," Bruce said, surprising the others. He almost never addressed the director by his name alone. "You had better find them or I will. Even if I have to let the other guy destroy every city in the world one-by-one until they're found."

Without waiting for a reply, Bruce turned and walked out of the room, murderous anger rolling off him in waves. No one doubted the sincerity of the scientist's words.

* * *

**Let me know if you liked it! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thank you guys for all of the reviews, favs, and alerts! I can't believe how many this story has already gotten! I'm glad so many of you like this! :)**

**Another warning: More torture in this chapter but if chapters 3 and 4 didn't bother you, this shouldn't either.**

**Thanks to _Maralexa_ for the beta!**

**Chapter 5**

Tony jerked awake with a groan and peeled his eyes open. The memories that had haunted him while he slept continued to float through his mind. Memories of a cave, and the death of a friend. Except this time it wasn't Yinsen dying with bullet holes covering his chest. This time it was Clint dying on the floor of a cell with his head bashed in.

Tony hated this place and this situation. It was too close, much too close to before. Afghanistan was happening all over again but this time he vowed it would be different. They would get out; both of them. He wouldn't let Clint become another Yinsen. Not as long as he still drew breaths.

His train of thought was derailed as the pain made itself known; aching, throbbing pain that was not nearly as dull as he would have hoped. His pain-fogged brain slowly left the realm of memories and nightmares and returned to reality, reminding him of his current situation. He groaned again, this time in frustration rather than pain. Did he mention he really hated this place?

He blinked, trying to clear his blurry vision. Once his eyes focused enough, his gaze fell on the other occupant in the room. It was only the presence of Clint that prompted Tony to even think about moving, and with a monumental effort, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. His back, chest, and arms screamed in agony with every twitch of his muscles.

He sat there, arms bracing himself up as he shuddered and panted. After a few minutes, the pain became more tolerable, his breathing approached some semblance of normal, and he didn't feel like he was about to lose whatever might be left in his stomach. He looked over at Clint and his gaze fell on his discarded undershirt. He immediately dismissed it. There was no way he was letting anything, not even a shirt, touch his back. He checked Clint over again, finding the archer in the same state as before. It didn't appear as if Clint had even moved, let alone awoken.

"You know it would be nice to have someone to talk to," Tony mumbled as he leaned his shoulder against the wall, careful to not let his back touch. "I really wish I had a permanent marker on me. This would be the perfect opportunity to give you a nice mustache and goatee. It'd be a good punishment for refusing to wake up and give me some conversation."

Unsurprisingly, there was no response.

"The silent treatment huh? What did I ever do to deserve that? I mean, besides taking all of your arrows out of your quiver and replacing them with Nerf ones, or filling your bow case with foam, or gluing feathers onto your uniform, or—Okay yeah, I probably deserve the silent treatment."

Tony continued to ramble about nothing for several more minutes, more to fill the silence than to make any actual sense, which was good, considering he wasn't sure he could make much sense even if he wanted to.

After a few minutes, he was interrupted by the sound of a low moan. Tony's attention snapped to Clint as the archer turned his head ever so slightly.

"Clint? Clint!" Tony called, gently tapping the side of Clint's face in an effort to bring the man to consciousness.

"T'ny?" the archer mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Yes, it's me. Come on, wake up," Tony urged.

As much as he wanted Clint to be spared from the situation they were in, Tony also desperately wanted a friendly face to talk to so maybe he could stop feeling so alone. Unfortunately, fate didn't agree as Clint went still, losing consciousness again before ever fully regaining it. Tony bowed his head and sighed deeply. Alone it was.

He was jerked from his thoughts a second later by the door opening and either Tweedledee or Tweedledum (Tony wasn't sure which anymore) walked in carrying a pitcher and a hunk of stale bread which he placed on the ground in the middle of the room before leaving once more. Tony spent the next two minutes talking himself into moving again. Somehow he managed to drag himself over to the items. He looked into the pitcher to see it full of water. Tony grabbed the pitcher and bread and brought them over to Clint. He picked Clint's head and shoulders up and slid underneath, so that Clint laid in his lap. Tony pulled Clint's mouth open and let some of the water trickle into the archer's mouth.

"Come on, Clint, swallow," Tony mumbled.

He pinched Clint's nose forcing the archer to swallow. After the first swallow, Tony was able to let go of Clint's nose as the SHIELD agent began to swallow voluntarily.

"Much better," Tony murmured.

After Clint had drank about half of the water, Tony pulled the pitcher away and drank thirstily, finishing off what remained. Then he looked at the bread and decided that there was no way he would be able to get Clint to eat while unconscious. Tony nibbled at the bread, knowing he needed something in his stomach but also feeling too queasy to eat very much very fast. He managed to get about half of the bread down before he had to stop or else lose everything he had managed to get into him already. Besides, he figured if Clint woke up he would need some food, so Tony decided to save the rest of the bread for later.

After a few minutes, Tony began to blink sluggishly. He didn't want to sleep here. He didn't want more images of the cave, or of Clint dying while he stood by helplessly, to play through his mind. He didn't want to sleep, but he was so tired. He thought maybe if he just rested for a minute he would feel better. Just long enough to feel a bit more rested but not so long as to let the dreams come. Just for a few minutes. He leaned his head against the wall and in seconds he was dead to the world.

**)()()(**

"What progress have we got?" Fury demanded of the SHIELD techs.

"Sir, we have identified the voice from the video," a tech answered.

"Who is it?" Steve asked, walking into the room followed by Bruce, Natasha, Thor, and Phil. They had just returned from helping the search teams, without any useful results.

"We actually found it through a partial match to another voice we had on file."

"Partial match?" Steve asked.

"Yes, a familial match, actually. His brother, now deceased. His name was Raza," the tech said, putting up a picture on one of the screens.

All six of them stiffened at the name and face. They knew exactly who Raza was.

"And you're saying the man who has Tony is Raza's brother?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, his name is Hassan."

A second picture appeared beside the first. The second man bore a strong resemblance to Raza, right down to the evil glint in his eyes.

"So, Raza's brother is holding Tony and Clint hostage and more than likely, he blames Tony for his brother's death. If we don't find them soon…" Bruce left the rest of the sentence unfinished.

**)()()(**

Tony was awakened sometime later by the door opening and men barging into the cell. He looked up to see Head-honcho and his two lackeys standing in the doorway.

"Take him," Honcho said.

Tony didn't have the strength to fight back as he was once again dragged from the room and brought to the same room as the day before. Or rather, he was brought to the same room that he had been tortured in. Tony had no idea how long ago that actually was.

This time, though, there was a metal chair in the center of the room. Tony was dropped into the chair, his vision swimming as his back protested to being slammed against the chair back. His shoulders joined the pain chorus as his arms were jerked around the back of the chair and tied to the slats.

Once he was secured, Tweedledee and Tweedledum left the room and Head-honcho moved to stand in front of him. For a few minutes, he scrutinized the billionaire like he was some interesting specimen at a zoo, before reaching forward and touching the arc reactor. Tony looked down at the hand and his eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. Sure enough, to his horror, the reactor was unlocked and removed from his chest.

Immediately Tony could feel his chest tighten and it became harder to make his lungs cooperate. This feeling only grew worse the longer the arc was out. Just as his lungs started to burn and pain laced through his chest with every beat of his heart, the reactor was replaced and Tony could instantly breathe again.

He sucked in deep breaths, feeding oxygen to his starving body. The pain faded and his breathing returned to some semblance of normal, only for the whole process to start again as the arc was once more pulled from its casing. Tony was just short of going into cardiac arrest when it was once again returned. Tony focused on breathing and hoped that his arc reactor would stay where it was. Having it removed and replaced was like having a heart attack over and over. No, it wasn't _like _he was having a heart attack over and over. He _was _having a heart attack over and over.

To his immense relief, Head-honcho stepped back behind him, but the relief turned to icy fear as he saw why. Tweedledee and Tweedledum had returned and they weren't empty handed. They were carrying a tub of water that they set in font of him. Uncontrolled panic seized him as unwanted memories came unbidden to his mind.

_Come on, Tony. You can do this. You can do this. You survived this once, you can do it again. Just stay calm and _focus. _Just stay calm, _he thought to himself.

He took a deep breath, forced the memories from his mind, and smoothed out his expression. He wasn't going to let them break him. He was untied and pushed to his knees in front of the tub. His panic threatened to return but with a monumental effort, he forced it away. He heard a grunt come from behind him and he had just enough time to suck in a breath before Tweedledee and Tweedledum shoved his head under water.

As his face hit the icy water, his instincts took over and he struggled for all he was worth, heedless of the fact that he was using up precious oxygen. After a moment his brain finally kicked in and he stopped fighting and allowed himself to go limp. His captors did exactly what he had hoped they would. They pulled him out. He quickly sucked in a breath knowing he wouldn't be out of the water for long. He was right. Under he went, again. This time he didn't fight and struggle. He stayed still, conserving his air supply. As his lungs burned and he felt he couldn't last any longer they pulled him out again. Over and over this happened as images and flashbacks swirled around in his head.

Scenes of the cave, of Raza standing over him as he was tortured, and of Yinsen dying. The memories twisted and swirled until they warped into other images. The cave became a cell, Raza became his brother, and Yinsen became Clint. The pictures raced through his head and twisted and switched back and forth until he no longer knew what was real and what was not.

Each time, he held his breath as long as he could and just as his body was on the verge of giving out he would be pulled back up again. What seemed like an eternity later, Tony was pulled out and kept there. He greedily sucked in desperate gulps of air. It was over. He survived. It was over. Except, it wasn't.

Head-honcho appeared in front of him and once again he was stripped of his precious arc reactor. The man disappeared from view and suddenly Tony's face was once again in the water.

This he couldn't do. He couldn't hold his breath when he couldn't breathe in the first place. He couldn't go through cardiac arrest without air and he couldn't go through water-boarding with a faltering heart. But here he was going through both at the same time. He was going to drown. He knew it.

Tony held onto the air as long as he could but his failing body was using it up too rapidly. Finally he couldn't take it any longer and he involuntarily took in a breath. His body spasmed as the water hit his lungs. He was pulled up and as soon as the air hit his face he began to cough and choke on the water as he dispelled it from his lungs.

He got the liquid out of his body and took in a desperate gulp of air into lungs that no longer wanted to work. He was forced under again and even though they didn't keep him down as long, it was still long enough for his lungs to fill with water again. He coughed the water out once more and thought that surely, _surely _this would be the last time. It wasn't though.

The third time he went under, he knew he wouldn't make it through. He had barely survived the last round. He couldn't do it again. Water filled his lungs almost immediately as his faltering heart ate up the oxygen, but this time he wasn't pulled up. He tried to cough the water out only to have more rush in and still he wasn't pulled up. Darkness began to encroach on his vision and his body went numb. Just before he lost consciousness he thought he felt himself getting lifted out of the water, but he couldn't make his body work any longer. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep, let the darkness have him.

He was prevented from that by a hand slapping him hard on his back. Distantly, some small part of his mind was thankful for the numbness otherwise the cuts on his back would have been screaming at him. Instead, his body instinctively responded. He coughed, hacked, and choked as water spewed from his mouth. He coughed until his stomach rebelled and he threw up. This continued until his lungs and stomach (and what felt like his entire body) was completely empty.

Once finished, he laid there on his side sucking in air that he couldn't seem to get enough of. The Tweedle Twins picked him up and El Jefe replaced his arc reactor. He was lifted up and retied to the chair, where he slumped and gasped for breath.

For the next, he didn't know how long, he lost himself in a haze of pain and fatigue. He focused on breathing and not much else. He was vaguely aware of the men moving around him but he wasn't really paying attention so he was blindsided when his world suddenly dissolved into pain.

It became the only thing he was aware of. He no longer knew what was going on around him. The agony he was in was his only thought or sensation and he wasn't even aware enough to know what they were doing to cause him so much pain. Sometime later (he had no way of knowing how long) it all stopped. He sagged forward in the chair and sat panting and shaking. The pain was by no means gone but he was aware of reality again. He heard the men talking but he wasn't really paying attention, and to be honest he didn't really care what they were saying anyway.

Tony, utterly spent, allowed himself to slip back into the haze of pain and fatigue that was quickly becoming his constant companion. He was only vaguely aware of the men untying him and dragging him from the room. He felt himself hit the floor of his cell as he was thrown inside, and he lay on his side where he fell, unable to summon the strength to move. A few seconds later, everything went black as he slipped into blessed unconsciousness.

* * *

**Leave me a review and let me know what you think! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and alerts! It's time to focus on the team again, Tony and Clint will return in the next chapter.**

**Chapter 6**

Steve, Thor, Natasha, and Bruce were once again on the bridge of the helicarrier with Fury and Coulson. The four of them had scarcely left the bridge since first arriving on board, except to help the search teams which had yet to provide any useful leads as to where their teammates might be. When they weren't searching, they were on the bridge, discussing with Fury and Coulson other possible options for finding Tony and Clint, but with so little information, that had taken all of five minutes. After that, they alternated between worrying for their friends and discussing what they would do to the men who had taken them, once they were caught.

They were in the middle of the 'worrying silently' phase, when one of the techs reluctantly broke the tense silence of the bridge.

"Sir, they sent another one."

"On screen," Fury ordered as the Avengers leapt to their feet and all but ran over to the monitor.

The video showed what looked like the same room as before but this time with a metal chair sitting in the center. Moments later, Tony was dragged into the room and tied to the chair. Then the two goons walked out of the room again.

Once they were gone, the leader, who's name they now knew was Hassan, moved to stand in front of Tony but a little off to the side so that those watching the video could still see the billionaire.

Hassan reached out and touched Tony's arc reactor, causing the billionaire's eyes to widen but otherwise his face remained blank. To those who knew him, though, it was an obvious display of fear.

"No," Bruce breathed.

Hassan twisted the arc reactor and lifted it out of Tony's chest. Almost instantly, Tony's breathing became harsher and more ragged as he was forced to sit there, panting, while his heart rebelled against him.

Hassan held the arc reactor up and stared at it for a few minutes before sliding it back into Tony's chest. Tony's breathing immediately eased as the reactor resumed its work but just as he was about to catch his breath, Hassan reached out yet again and pulled the reactor back out of its rightful place and Tony's breathing grew labored again. For the next couple of minutes, Hassan stood, holding the reactor and staring at Tony as the billionaire grew weaker while his struggle grew stronger.

Once again, the arc was replaced and Tony's wheezing eased. The man stepped a little away from Tony and the team breathed a sigh of relief at the reprieve.

It didn't last nearly long enough, though, as the two goons from earlier returned with a tub of water and placed it on the floor in front of Tony. For the first time, Tony's face showed real fear. Unbridled terror flashed in Tony's eyes as he caught sight of the tub. Tony had once opened up to the team and Phil about his time in Afghanistan, so they all understood Tony's fear at what was obviously about to come and Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Thor, and Phil all shared a horrified look. Of all the things that could be done to Tony, this was probably the worst.

Bruce had managed to keep relatively calm so far, but it was all he could do to not hulk-out at the sight of the raw fear on Tony's face. As it was, the scientist closed his eyes and breathed deeply until he felt the rage ease a bit and his control return.

"Doctor, perhaps you should step outside," Fury suggested, not unkindly.

"No. I'm okay. I want- I _need _to see this," Bruce said. He couldn't bring himself to turn his back on Tony, even if it was a video.

The others appeared to be trying to determine if Bruce really was okay. After a moment, they seemed to reach a decision. Fury gave Bruce a nod and he and the others turned back to the screen.

With what had to be a monumental effort, Tony collected himself, smoothed out his expression, and calmed his breathing. The goons untied him and forced him to his knees beside the tub. Tony faced it stoically, even though he had to have been completely terrified. Hassan was once again standing behind Tony, and with a grunt from him, the two goons pushed Tony forward and shoved his head under the water.

Tony thrashed and struggled to get his head above water but it was useless as the men held him firmly. Tony suddenly became motionless and with another grunt from their leader, the two men pulled Tony up out of the water. Tony sucked in a deep breath of air but as soon as his lungs were filled he was shoved back under again. This time, Tony didn't struggle as much, probably trying to conserve his oxygen supply. After what seemed like an eternity, Tony was pulled up again.

For the next several minutes, the cycle repeated. They would force Tony's head in the water and hold him there until he began to go limp, at which time he would be pulled from the water and allowed to take a breath or two before going back under again.

Finally, Hassan signaled the men and they pulled Tony out of the water and held him there as the billionaire panted heavily. The watchers breathed another sigh of relief as it seemed to finally be over, but, to their horror, it was only just beginning and it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Hassan moved in front of Tony yet again. He reached out, twisted the arc reactor, and pulled it from its place once more. He moved back to his place behind Tony and on his signal, the billionaire was pushed under the water again. The whole situation had just gone from bad to worse. Not only was Tony being water-boarded, but he was being water-boarded while his heart was failing.

The next time Tony was pulled up, he began hacking and coughing, water spewing from his mouth. He got the liquid cleared from his lungs only to have his head submerged yet again. He was pulled up sooner the next time but he still spluttered and sprayed water from his mouth. Once more he was pushed under. This time, though, he went limp before they pulled him out, and when they did, he didn't react. He didn't cough, he didn't breathe, he just slumped in their grip. Everyone on the helicarrier froze at the sight of the unmoving Avenger.

One of the goons slapped Tony harshly on the back twice. On the second hit, Tony reacted. He coughed violently spewing water from his mouth. He coughed until he threw up. Finally, he settled and his harsh breathing was the only sound on the bridge. Hassan moved over and replaced the arc. Once he was finished, he motioned for the men to put Tony back in the chair. Then the men removed the tub.

Tony sat, slumped against his bonds, gasping for air that just wouldn't seem to come. Hassan watched Tony impassively, as if he was watching someone eat lunch instead of looking at a person that he had just tortured. A few minutes passed and the terrorist leader returned to his spot behind the chair as the two goons returned. They were rolling a kind of cart behind them. On it, was some sort of device that had wires attached to it.

"Oh, no," Bruce whispered.

Everyone's attention snapped to Bruce, expecting to see him livid and on the verge of hulking-out but they were alarmed at the look on the scientist's face. Bruce's face had completely drained of color and he looked both horrified and on the verge of tears. Bruce had figured it out before the others. He knew what was coming next.

"Electric shock," was all he said.

The others looked back at the screen their eyes widening, all except Steve and Thor.

"I do not understand," Thor said.

"What's electric shock?" asked Steve. He thought he knew but he really really hoped he was wrong.

"It's when electricity is sent through the body as torture," Natasha said quietly as she stared at the screen.

"You mean they're going to electrocute him?" Steve asked, his voice breaking. Natasha simply nodded.

Steve swallowed thickly and Thor clenched his fists and grit his teeth. They didn't want to watch what was coming but they wouldn't turn away.

The two goons rolled the cart next to Tony. Goon number two turned the device on while goon number one grabbed the two wires connected to the device. Tony was too out of it to know what was going on and he never saw it coming.

A scream the likes of which they had never heard before, ripped from the billionaire's throat as goon number one stuck the wires to Tony's chest. The wires were held there a moment before they were removed, leaving Tony breathless. A second later, they were pressed to his chest again.

Over and over the wires were pressed to different areas of Tonys chest, agonized screams bursting from Tony with every touch, until his voice was hoarse and raw and his chest was covered in electrical burns. At long last, the men stopped and Tony sagged in the chair. If it wasn't for the ropes tying him to the chair, Tony would have collapsed to the floor. He sat there, gasping and shaking pitifully.

After a minute, Hassan ordered the two goons to untie Tony from the chair. Once unbound, they lifted him by the arms and dragged him from the room.

As the video ended, Bruce went from pale and shaking with horror to slightly green and shaking with rage. He only distantly heard his friends trying to talk him down as the blood rushed in his ears, muffling the sounds around him. He was so close to changing and the truth was he wanted to change. He was so angry, so furious, and it would be oh so easy to just let go and let the other guy take over. The only thing that held him back was the fact that, not only was he flying in the helicarrier, but his friends were on board as well. If the Hulk started smashing he could hurt them, or cause the helicarrier to go down, which would also result in harm coming to the others. The only thing letting the Hulk out would do, is let Bruce release his anger. Otherwise it wouldn't accomplish a thing.

So with great effort, Bruce fought to keep control. The Hulk pushed at his mind, demanding to be turned loose. But all it took was for Bruce to picture what could happen to the other Avengers and the Hulk relented and ceased his fight altogether. The other guy may have been an animalistic rage beast, but for some reason he also cared about the other Avengers with a deep sense of protectiveness that often surprised Bruce. So, although the Hulk was angry, he wasn't so far gone as to risk his friends.

Bruce took a deep breath, coming back to himself, and looked around to see everyone staring at him in concern and fear. The former coming from Steve, Natasha, Thor, and Phil. The latter from everyone else (except Fury, whose expression hardly ever changed from neutral to begin with).

"I'm fine," Bruce said, fiddling with his glasses and taking note of the fact that his clothes were a bit stretched out. A testament to just how close he had come to losing it.

"Are you sure?" Natasha asked.

"Yes. The other guy and I have... reached an understanding."

"Understanding?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," Bruce said, looking at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. "He doesn't want to risk hurting you guys."

The other Avengers looked at him in slight surprise. They knew the Hulk liked them well enough to fight _with_ them instead of _against_ them, but to actually think ahead about their safety? That was new.

"Um, okay then. So what are we going to do?" Steve asked, turning to Fury again.

"We will continue the search on the ground and our efforts to back-trace the video but beyond that, there's not much else we can do for the time being," Fury said.

The others didn't like it. They wanted to find Tony and Clint and take out the men who hurt them right then and there, but that was something they couldn't do yet. The only thing they could do was wait, whether they liked it or not.

* * *

**It's looking more and more like Tony and Clint can't afford to wait around for the others to rescue them. Unfortunately, you guys will have to wait until the next chapter to see what happens. Let me know what you think! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Thanks for all of the reviews guys! You are all awesome and reading your reviews is always the best part of my day. **

**Well it looks like Tony is getting tired of waiting around like a damsel in distress for SHIELD to show up and save him. But you'll just have to read the chapter to find out what he's going to do about it. :)**

******On a side note, if any of you guys are looking for another story to read after reading this, check out _musicmixer08_'s _Iron Man: The Autobiography of Tony Stark. musicmixer08 _asked me to help promote it because it is their first ever fanfic and like all of us writers they could use some encouragement. So drop on by and leave them a review to let them know how they're doing. So far it's shaping up to be a pretty good plot. **

**Chapter 7**

Tony had no way of knowing how long he had been a captive. Falling asleep in a windowless room will kind of mess with a person's sense of time. Tony was also no medical expert but when he woke up again to find that Clint still seemed to have not even moved, Tony began to get worried. He may not be a doctor but he was pretty sure that someone shouldn't be unconscious for that long. However long 'that long' was.

He needed to get them out of there. Clint needed help and Tony didn't have the luxury of waiting around for SHIELD to find them. They both could end up dead if he did that. He just needed to figure out _how_ to get them out of there. Tony pushed himself up to a sitting position with a hiss and looked down at himself to see cuts, bruises, and burns adorning his torso. He somehow managed to block out the pain and pull himself over to Clint, letting out a soft curse as he did so. He reached out and checked Clint's pulse again and turned the archer's head to inspect his wound. Clint let out a soft moan at the movement.

"Clint? Clint," Tony said, shaking Clint lightly, but beyond letting out another groan and turning his head slightly the archer didn't stir any further. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm not doing anything important, just trying to get us out of here. But by all means, you just go ahead and sleep," Tony mumbled with a huff.

In all honesty, though, in a way it was probably a good thing Clint was unconscious. Although the only thing even remotely 'good' about it was that Clint couldn't do something stupid, like grabbing a rifle and running off to face the bad guys alone.

Tony shook himself of the thoughts before they could get too far. He stood and made his way over to the door. There had to be a way out. They had to get out of there. He started to examine the door for any weakness, anything he could exploit. That's when he saw something he hadn't noticed before.

Since the door was bolted from the outside, there was nothing for Tony to pick, but there were hinges on his side of the door, that were just screwed into the wall. Even the smartest people can make mistakes, and Head-honcho had made a vital one when he ignored the hinges. Now if Tony could just manage to unscrew the hinges they could get out.

Before he did that, though, he went back over to Clint and slowly and painfully put his undershirt back on. He couldn't very well escape without a shirt. He could, however, escape with just an undershirt. He wasn't about to put a second shirt on over his battered chest and back. He wasn't going to leave his other shirt behind, though. He might need it later, so he looped the shirt through his belt and slipped his shoes back on. Then he forced down what was left of the bread, to give him a slight energy boost.

After he was finished, he began to search Clint, going through all of the archer's pockets. Tony knew that Clint carried all kinds of tools and weapons hidden on his person. He guessed that their captors had probably searched him and found most of it, but Tony was betting on Clint's sneakiness. Sure enough, one knife and three bullets later, he found a small lock picking set. There may not have been a lock to pick, but with a little help from the knife, Tony could make the tools work to unscrew the hinges from the wall. Tony grabbed the knife and tool kit and returned to the door.

It only took the genius five minutes to have one hinge detached and the second halfway there. Once the last screw was free, Tony eased the door away from the wall just far enough to peak out into the hall and saw a guard with his back to the door. Tony eased the door open and silently stepped out into the hall.

The guard wasn't Tweedledee or Tweedledum. Tony had assumed there were other guards there but that was the first he had seen of them. Without hesitation, Tony pounced on the man pulling Clint's knife as he went. He placed a hand over the guard's mouth and stabbed the knife into the guy's side between his ribs. The knife slid in and out quick and smooth, piercing the heart and killing the man, all within the span of a few seconds. Tony let the man crumple to the ground and wiped the knife off on the guard's uniform before slipping the knife back into his belt and grabbing the guard's assault rifle. He took the man by the shoulders and dragged him out of the hallway and into the cell. Then Tony moved back over to Clint.

"You know if you were going to wake up, now would be a good time," Tony said as he got Clint into a sitting position.

Yet again, there was no response from the archer.

"You're a butt you know that?" Tony huffed as he picked up Clint and slung the archer over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, his back screaming in protest and a grunt escaping him. "Man, you are _heavy. _Seriously, you're my height and you have like twice as much muscle, which is something I will never admit when you are conscious," he said, more to distract himself from the pain in his back than any other reason.

Taking a deep breath, he moved back into the hall and pulled the door closed before taking off up the hallway in search of an exit.

**)()()(**

Hassan was making his way toward Tony's and Clint's cell, his guards, also known as the Tweedle Twins, were following him. They reached the door and Tweedledee began to unbolt it. Once the last bolt was lose, he pushed the door but instead of swinging open like it was supposed to it fell inward with a loud clang.

The three men looked in surprise at the downed door, the dead guard, and the otherwise empty cell. It took Hassan all of three seconds to go from surprise to furious. He started yelling in Arabic, ordering his men to find the two escaped captives. His guards hurried to comply, not wanting to get on the wrong side of their boss' temper. They each took a direction up the hall in search of their targets, informing any other guards they saw, of the escape. They would find Tony and Clint or they wouldn't return. Because if they didn't find them then Tweedledee and Tweedledum were as good as dead, and they knew it.

**)()()(**

Tony moved through the hallways, making pretty good time. That was, until he rounded a turn to see three guards coming toward him. Tony opened fire, not giving then men the chance to attack first. He mowed them down and continued up the hall. For the next several minutes, Tony wound through the maze-like hallways, taking out any guards he met along the way. There were a few close calls as some bullets came far too close to him and Clint but Tony managed to keep them unscathed.

He was moving through yet another hallway when he heard the sound of many footsteps running in their direction. Rather than try to face that many armed people, Tony chose to duck into a nearby room, hoping that no one was inside. Fortunately, the room was empty. The footsteps grew closer and passed by, fading down the hall. Tony relaxed a bit and glanced around the room he was in. It looked like a typical office with a desk and chairs. Tony peeked out into the hall, making sure it was empty. He was just about to leave when something caught his eye. He looked to his left to see a small table sitting against one wall, but it was what was _on _the table that made a grin spread across his face. Sitting on the table was a certain black quiver that Tony instantly recognized.

Tony knew Clint would never let him hear the end of it if he left his beloved quiver behind, so Tony grabbed it and slung it over his shoulder before leaving the room and continuing his search for an exit.

He was moving past yet another opened doorway, when something caught his eye, causing him to stop in his tracks. He backed up and looked though the doorway to see a room full of weapons. Guns, knives, grenades, IEDs, missiles, and many other weapons that would no doubt be used to hurt innocent people.

Tony felt anger rise up in him. He had to take these guys out. If he didn't, they could just chase them down and recapture them and even if they didn't, there was no way Tony was going to allow them to escape. He had to end this and now. He could just rig the weapons to explode but there was a chance that Head-honcho had booby trapped them. Tony didn't think so but he wasn't willing to risk his and Clint's lives on an 'I don't think so.'

He needed some kind of explosive that he could build quickly, or an explosive he was already familiar with and knew for sure hadn't been tampered with... An idea struck him and Tony pulled the quiver off of his shoulder and was pleased to see it held two exploding arrows. Tony removed the two arrows and maneuvered the quiver back onto his shoulder. He quickly dismantled the arrow tips and rewired the explosives, programming in a delay of ten minutes before the arrows would go off. Once he was finished he set the arrows on the floor beside the other weapons. Then he left the room and resumed his trek up the hall, picking up the pace as his explosives counted down.

A few minutes later, he had made his way to the entrance, taking a few more men out along the way. He burst though the doors into the sun and ran as far and as fast as he could (which admittedly wasn't all that fast between his injuries, fatigue, and Clint's weight), keeping track of the countdown in his head. In actually, it was just adrenalin, self-preservation, and sheer willpower that was keeping him moving and he only vaguely took note of the fact that he had just exited what could only be referred to as a bunker, in the middle of the desert.

He was about three hundred yards away from the bunker and was clear of the rocky outcroppings that surrounded it, when he hit zero in his head. He dove to the ground and threw himself on top of Clint as the ground shook and the air vibrated as the bunker was blown sky high.

Fiery debris rained down around them and Tony had to brush off a few sparks and small pieces of wood off of his bare arms. Just when Tony thought it was safe, one final chunk of burning wood fell from the sky. The reason Tony noticed it, though, was because it landed on Clint's lower legs and _set his boots on fire! _

Tony leapt forward and yanked Clint's boots off before they could burn him. Tony threw the boots to the side, his hands getting burned in the process but he was relieved to see Clint's legs and feet were unharmed.

Tony looked around him to see nothing but sand and a few rock outcroppings in every direction. It looked like he was going to be doing another desert trek. This time, though, he had the pleasure of carrying a full grown man on his back. Well, what's that saying? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Well, Tony was going to be pretty strong after this, provided of course that he survived.

Tony pulled his spare shirt out of his belt and wrestled Clint into it. He couldn't carry the unconscious man through the hot desert in just a vest. Now Tony had to find help, and soon. He was the only chance Clint had. Unless by some miracle SHIELD somehow saw the explosion, then Tony was Clint's only hope for rescue.

So Tony dragged Clint into a sitting position and slipped the quiver onto the archer's back. Then Tony pulled Clint onto his shoulders again and staggered to his feet with a grunt. His back shot white hot agony and he could feel his wounds reopen but he ignored it as best he could.

"Come on, Feathers. Let's get out of here," Tony mumbled.

Then he began to walk.

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? Want to strangle me for leaving it hanging? Let me know! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Wow! You guys blew me away! The last chapter was the most reviewed chapter yet! Reviews just kept coming in and filling up my inbox. My family was giving me some strange looks because I kept jumping up and down with excitement. :P **

**Okay, so Tony and Clint have escaped! Fortunately for you guys (and unfortunately for Tony and Clint) it's not over yet. I can't let our boys off that easy can I? :)**

**Chapter 8**

Hassan walked up the hall quickly. Mad was not the word to describe what he was feeling. Seething fury was getting a bit closer. Stark and Barton had escaped but they were not going to get away, and when he found them they we're going to pay, dearly, and if Stark hadn't killed the guard watching their cell then Hassan would have taken that pleasure for himself.

He made his way through the compound following the trail of dead guards and the periodic sound of gunfire. He was walking down yet another hallway when he noticed a door ajar that was not supposed to be open. He pressed against the wall and nudged the door open wider. He raised his gun and cautiously entered the room. He relaxed as he saw the room was empty but then cursed as he noticed a certain item missing from the room. Barton's quiver, which Hassan had personally put in the room, was gone.

Hassan ran back out of the room and started up the hall when he froze. He turned and looked into the weapons room. There, laying next to their stockpiles of weapons, were two arrows. It took Hassan only a second to make the connection and he took off sprinting to the exit. He burst out of the door and ran as fast as he could from the bunker. He was only a few yards away when there was a deafening sound and the force of the explosion sent Hassan flying twenty feet through the air. The last thing he was aware of was slamming into the ground.

**)()()(**

"Sir! We just picked up a massive explosion," one of the SHIELD techs urgently called out.

The helicarrier was still in position over the area where Tony and Clint had been taken and the other Avengers were once again out with the search teams. They had been there for almost six hours which in the grand scheme of things wasn't all that long but when it comes to two people being missing and being tortured, six hours is far far too long.

"Where?" Fury asked.

"About and hour away, sir," the tech replied.

"Take us there, Agent, and recall the Avengers to the helicarrier," Fury ordered.

"They're already on their way."

**)()()(**

Hassan didn't know how much time had passed since he was knocked unconscious. As he slowly sat up and looked around, he thought it had to have been less than half an hour as parts of the bunker were still on fire and the wind had not completely covered his tracks. He got to his feet and began looking around the bunker for more tracks. He knew Stark and Barton had gotten away. They had escaped, killed his men, and blown up his bunker. He was done with torture. This was beyond revenge for his brother. He had lost his gun during the explosion but he still had a knife on him and he was going to hunt Stark and Barton down and slit each of their throats.

**)()()(**

An hour after they originally detected it, the helicarrier reached the site of the explosion and the Avengers went down to investigate. What they found was a partially blackened crater. Upon closer inspection, they found what looked like what was left of underground tunnels and rooms which seemed to have been part of some kind of underground bunker. For the next twenty minutes, they searched through the rubble, finding evidence that people had been in the explosion but none that suggested Tony or Clint were among the bodies. But that was more hopeful thinking than anything, considering all of the bodies were unrecognizable.

"This had to be it," Steve said. "Tony and Clint must have been here, and I'm betting that they were responsible for the explosion."

The others nodded their agreement. They had to believe that Tony and Clint had escaped and blown the place in the process, because if they hadn't that meant they had been in the explosion and were now dead. And that was something the others couldn't accept. So until they found evidence that proved otherwise, they were going to act on the assumption that their friends had escaped.

"Captain America to Director Fury."

"I'm here. Go ahead," Fury replied through the earpiece.

"We're going to need search parties."

**)()()(**

He heard chopper blades. But that wasn't possible. He was alone. No one was going to find them. It was up to him to get himself and Clint to safety. So whatever he was hearing wasn't chopper blades. He decided to ignore the sound. It wasn't all that important anyway. He kept walking, kept moving. He had to keep going. If he stopped he wouldn't start again and that would doom both Clint and himself to death. He didn't much care about himself at this point. He was kind of beyond caring about himself, or about anything really, except Clint. The only goal he had, the only thing keeping him from just laying down and giving up was the fact that someone needed him. Until his body gave out and refused to continue, until his heart stopped beating and he stopped breathing, until he was dead, he wouldn't stop. Either he would get Clint to safety or he would die trying, literally.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the voices around him. So he was surprised to suddenly see Coulson in front of him. But it couldn't be Phil, because he was alone. Great! Now he was hallucinating. Oh well, there were worse hallucinations to have. Phil, or rather Not-Phil, was talking to him but he didn't have the strength to listen to a hallucination. He ignored the apparition and continued walking but Not-Phil stopped in front of him. Tony hesitated a moment before remembering that a person couldn't actually walk into a hallucination. He kept moving toward Not-Phil. He didn't have the strength to walk around a figment of his imagination.

Tony had every intention of walking right through Not-Phil. But said person/delusion/hallucination put his hands out and gripped Tony's shoulders forcing him to stop. This was one real hallucination. He could actually feel hands on his shoulders (well, sort of, he had gone mostly numb a while ago). He tried to push forward but the hands didn't give. It felt like he was pushing against a brick wall. He had no other choice but to listen to the words that Not-Phil was saying. He stared at Not-Phil's face and forced his ears to start working again.

"Tony. Tony, it's all right. You're safe now. You're safe. It's all over. You can stop now. Just stop."

Tony wanted to believe the words so badly. He wanted to believe that Not-Phil really was Phil. He wanted to believe that they had been found and that it was all over. The man in front of him seemed so real. He looked real. He felt real. He sounded real. Tony was so tired. He just wanted to stop. Phil said he could stop. Phil had never lied to him before, not when it counted. He trusted Phil. Even if Phil was a hallucination.

His knees buckled as he gave in to the need to _just stop._ He fell forward but instead of hitting sand like he was expecting, he felt strong arms wrap around him, easing him down to the ground. He could smell Phil's familiar cologne. It was so real. He wanted to believe that the arms holding him were real, that the voice speaking to him wasn't imagined, that Phil really was there and that he and Clint really were safe. He wanted to believe it so bad. It was just too much and he was just too tired. He didn't care if it was real, he was going to believe it for as long as he could. The last bit of moisture in his body gathered in the form of a few tears that came unbidden to his eyes and rolled down his face.

Just as he felt darkness begin to creep up on him, he heard a few final whispered words.

"You did good, Tony."

Darkness overtook him and he knew no more.

**)()()(**

Phil was in the passenger seat of a helicopter with a team of medics in the back. They had been searching for almost an hour now which meant that Tony and Clint had been out in the unforgiving desert for close to two hours. Unsure of which direction Tony and Clint had gone, they had just had to pick one and hope for the best. Phil scanned the sand below, desperately searching for some sign of his two friends. They searched for about ten more minutes before he saw something moving below them.

"There!" he yelled, pointing out the window.

The pilot veered in the direction of what appeared to be a person. As they drew closer they could see that it was in fact two men. Tony and Clint. Tony was walking (more like staggering) and Clint appeared to be on Tony's back. His arms were over Tony's shoulders, his head resting on Tony's back, and his feet dragging the ground. He had his quiver strapped to his back and he appeared to be unconscious. Tony was holding Clint's wrists and half-carrying half-dragging the archer behind him.

Phil pressed a finger to his ear, activating his earpiece.

"Sir, we've found them," he said.

"We're on our way. I'll alert the others," Fury replied.

The director was on a jet along with Bruce while Steve, Natasha, and Thor were on a separate jet. They had each been searching different areas, covering as much area as quickly as they could. Fury's and Bruce's jet was closest to Phil's search grid and would arrive within a few minutes. The rest of the Avengers were at least ten minutes away.

The pilot set the chopper down a safe distance from Tony and Clint. The second the helicopter touched the ground, Phil leapt out of it and took off toward his two friends. As he drew closer, Phil grew concerned by the fact that not only had Tony not stopped walking, but he hadn't even looked up. It was as if he was completely unaware of the chopper that had just landed a short distance from him.

"Tony! Tony!" he yelled.

Tony didn't show any sign of having heard him.

Phil reached Tony and had to stop a moment to collect himself. Tony looked terrible. He was battered, bruised, and bloody. He had horrible sun burns on his arms and he looked utterly spent, completely dead on his feet. How he was still standing let alone walking and carrying another man, Phil had no idea. But it was Tony's eyes that really hit Phil hard. Tony's eyes looked completely dead, as if he was no longer there. He didn't seem to be aware of anything, not the chopper, not Phil, nothing.

Phil started to reach out and touch Tony but he stopped himself. There wasn't a spot on Tony that didn't appear to be injured. Instead, Phil tried to talk to him again.

"Tony? Can you hear me?"

Tony still didn't react, he just continued walking. A second later, the medical team reached the two men. Phil held out his hand to stop them from grabbing the two men.

"See if you can get a hold of Clint. I'm going to try to get Tony to let go of him," Phil ordered.

The medics gently grabbed hold of Clint while Phil moved in front of Tony. He walked backward, matching Tony's speed as the billionaire continued to stumble forward. For a brief moment, recognition seemed to flicker in Tony's eyes as he looked at Phil but just as fast as it came, the look disappeared and Tony's eyes returned to the dead and detached gaze from before.

Unsure how Tony might react, Phil moved slowly. He reached forward and gently grabbed Tony's hands and pried them from Clint's wrists. The medics gently lowered Clint to the ground and began checking him over. Tony continued walking, completely unaware that he was no longer carrying his teammate. Phil reached out and gently gripped Tony's shoulders forcing the man to stop. He felt Tony push against him and he was alarmed at how weak the billionaire was.

"Tony. Tony, it's all right. You're safe now. You're safe. It's all over. You can stop now. Just stop," Phil said.

He was relieved to see Tony look at him, really look at him. Then he got a conflicted look on his face, as if he was trying to reason out some problem. After a moment, Tony's face seemed to take on a defeated look, like he had given up on figuring out whatever problem he had been thinking about.

Suddenly, Tony's knees gave out and he collapsed. Phil reached out and caught him before he could hit the ground, grunting under Tony's dead weight. He dropped to his knees, easing Tony down with him. He held onto the billionaire, not wanting to lay his already injured body down on the brutally hot sand. Tony laid half sprawled on the sand with his head and upper body resting on Phil's chest.

Phil let his gaze land on Clint. The archer had a head wound but otherwise seemed to be all right and it was obvious to Phil why. Clint was wearing a very familiar long sleeved Black Sabbath shirt over his normal vest. Where his boots usually were, there were now tennis shoes that obviously weren't his. And around his head, covering his wound, was a makeshift bandage made from material that closely matched Tony's torn cargo pants.

Where Clint was covered and protected, Tony was the opposite. He wore nothing but a sleeveless undershirt, the back of which was streaked with lines of blood. His arms were bare and blistered from the merciless sun. His cargo pants were ripped in places and his feet were bloody and burned from walking in the hot sand without shoes for two hours. Tony had given up the very clothes on his back to protect Clint.

Tears began to roll down Tony's face and Phil leaned forward and whispered in Tony's ear.

"You did good, Tony."

The last ounce of tension drained out of Tony and he slipped into unconsciousness.

"You did good."

That's how Fury found them. Tony had just lost consciousness when the jet landed. Fury and Bruce were the first ones off and they made their way over to Phil. They took in the sight of Tony, unconscious in Phil's arms. Fury cursed and Bruce went pale. The scientist knelt down and began to look over Tony. He gently pressed his fingers to Tony's neck.

"His pulse is weak and thready. He's obviously severely dehydrated and those burns need tending to," Bruce said, more to himself than anyone else.

A few medics finally appeared with a stretcher and with their help, Bruce eased Tony off of Phil and onto the stretcher. Under Bruce's watchful gaze, the medics began the task of stabilizing Tony. Clint was unconscious but stable. The medics already had the archer on a stretcher and ready to be loaded into the helicopter as soon as Tony was ready.

The medics were almost ready to move when a second jet landed beside the first and Steve, Thor, and Natasha came barreling out of it. They ran over to the group of people surrounding the stretchers.

"Clint?" Natasha said.

She started to move toward the man but Steve grabbed her arm and held her back. She sent a glare at him.

"Let them work," he said softly.

Natasha's expression softened a bit and she gave Steve a nod. The three of them made their way over to Phil and Fury, who were standing off to the side. Along the way, they were able to catch a glimpse of the second stretcher and they didn't like what they saw. If it wasn't for the fact that they could see Tony breathing they would have thought he was dead.

"How are they?" Steve asked, coming to stand beside Phil.

"They're alive," Fury replied.

At the moment, that was all they knew for sure and for the time-being it was enough.

**)()()(**

_Those stupid fools,_ Hassan thought.

He had been tracking Barton and Stark for almost two hours when he finally caught sight of the two men. He sped up to a jog and was closing in on them when he heard the sound of a chopper approaching. He quickly diverted his path, sure that the chopper was Stark's and Barton's people looking for them. He took cover behind a sand dune to Stark's right, just as the chopper appeared from behind the billionaire.

Hassan watched as the chopper landed and men got out. He cursed. If only he had been sooner. It was obvious that Stark was not all there and Barton was still unconscious. It would have been so easy to kill them, but now he would have to wait. One way or another, though, he was going to kill them. It mattered too much to him now.

Two minutes later, a jet landed next to the chopper and more people disembarked. The arrival of the jet gave Hassan an idea and he waited for the right moment to execute it. As he watched, yet another jet arrived and landed next to the first before the occupants exited. Hassan seized the opportunity. He crested the dune and ran, staying hunched over, to the closest jet. The chopper and the two jets blocked him from the view of the others and they were all too preoccupied with Stark and Barton to notice him anyway.

Now, as he sat hidden in a compartment in one of the jets, he silently laughed at his enemies' stupidity. Their lack of observation was going to cost them their friends' lives.

* * *

**Yes, I ended the chapter there. Let me know how mad you are that I unrepentantly left you hanging until next week! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N For those of you who are worried about Clint and have been waiting for him to wake up, this chapter is mostly Clint centric. Also, because poor Clint has been unconscious for so long he needs to be filled in on what's happened. So we have a bit of reap in this chapter. Next chapter we'll get back to Tony. **

**Chapter 9**

As soon as the wheels touched the helicarrier, the medical teams rushed Tony and Clint off of the jet, the rest of the team following right behind.

They ran through the hallways, SHIELD agents leaping out of the way and looking on in shocked horror at the sight of the two men on the gurneys. Clint was still pale and unconscious and Tony looked more dead than alive, with a bag valve mask over his nose and mouth and one of the medics squeezing the bag to force air into the billionaire's faltering lungs.

The medics didn't waste any time getting to the medical facilities on board and hurriedly wheeled Tony and Clint inside. The rest of the team were forced to stop outside the doors by an orderly who told them that at the moment they would only be in the way and if they wanted to help their friends then they needed to wait outside. Basically they were told pretty much what they had expected to hear: wait.

Every single one of them wanted to break down the doors, which they weren't allowed to do. Or kill every last person who had been responsible for Clint's and Tony's conditions, which was something that wasn't possible for them to do. Or go to the gym and destroy everything they could get their hands on, which was something they weren't willing to do as it would mean leaving the medical wing.

So they got the happy pleasure of pacing, fidgeting, or internally seething/worrying as they waited for news on their friends and for the opportunity to fulfill their gym destruction scenario.

**)()()(**

Hassan made it to the helicarrier without being discovered and waited until he was sure the jet was empty before leaving his hiding place. He peeked out of the jet and saw all kinds of commotion on the deck. With that many people, there was no way he could even get off the jet without being seen, let alone get to Barton and Stark. He cursed and retreated back into the jet's compartment. He would just have to wait until nightfall, but it was no matter. If it meant finally getting to kill Tony Stark, then he would happily wait.

**)()()(**

He returned to consciousness slowly. The first sensation he was aware of was the overwhelming pounding in his head. A soft moan escaped his lips as the pounding in his head spiked. Moments later, voices began to filter into his awareness.

"He's waking up."

"It's about time."

"Clint?"

The voices were familiar but he couldn't place them.

"Clint? Open your eyes."

He recognized that voice. Natasha. He felt a hand touch his arm and he struggled to do as she had commanded. He pried open his eyes, clamping them shut again as the bright light assaulted his eyes. He tried again, this time more slowly. He cracked his eyelids, opening them wider once his eyes had adjusted to the light. He blinked a few times and forced his eyes to bring the blurry images around him into focus. He glanced around the room, recognizing it as belonging to the helicarrier medical facilities. Then he saw Natasha standing beside his bed, her hand resting on his arm and he gave her a small smile before he looked to the foot of his bed to see Steve and Coulson.

"What happened?" he croaked.

A cup of water suddenly appeared in front of him. Natasha held the cup to his lips as he drank thirstily.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Phil asked him.

Clint slowly sat up, gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut as the room tilted sickeningly. "We were fighting, there was an explosion. I turned in time to see a chunk of metal come flying at my face. Then nothing," he answered.

"So you don't remember any of your captivity?" Steve asked.

"Captivity?" Clint asked confused. He suddenly had a very bad feeling.

"I'll take that as a no," Phil said.

"How long have I been out?" Clint demanded.

"We're not sure, but if you don't remember any of your captivity, then it's been about eight and a half hours," Natasha said.

If he had still been drinking his water he would have spit it across the room.

"Eight hours?" he cried. "What- How-" He wasn't even sure what question to ask.

"We're not sure on all the details yet but, near as we can figure it, after you were knocked out you and Tony were captured by terrorists," Phil explained.

"Captured? How?" Clint asked. He couldn't believe Tony would allow them to be captured that easily.

"They used you as leverage to make Tony cooperate," Natasha said, causing Clint to pale slightly.

"They had him remove the suit and then we believe they loaded you two onto a chopper and took you to their hideout," Phil said, picking up the story again. "We're not real clear on the details after that but at some point within the next several hours Tony was tortured."

"_What?" _Clint cried. The pain in his head spiked again but he ignored it. "How bad?"

Steve knew Clint wouldn't want them to sugarcoat it so he told him everything.

"Pretty bad. Aside from severe dehydration, he has bruises, a broken rib, and two cracked ones from the beating he received. The doctors say he was lucky. Much more moving around and his broken rib could have punctured his lung. He has lashes on his back from the whipping and cuts on his chest from the knives. They've treated and wrapped all of those. He has some slight strain on his heart from the arc being removed and he had some fluid in his lungs from the water-boarding, which they have since removed. He has electrical burns on his chest and abdomen from the electric shock and second degree burns on his arms, boarder-line second, almost third, degree burns on his feet from walking in the hot sand for hours, and he has first degree burns on the palms of his hands, which we don't know the cause of. Those have all been treated and wrapped as well and he won't have to get skin graphs. He was struggling when we first got on the helicarrier but they were able to stabilize him once they got him here and miraculously he didn't need any surgery, just a lot of treatment and bandages. He's currently on a ventilator to take the strain off his body and he's still unconscious but the doctors say he should be all right in time," Steve said, having memorized everything the doctors had told them just a few hours previously.

Clint just stared at him for several long moments trying to get his brain to absorb and accept the information. Looking and feeling a bit sick, Clint finally managed a coherent thought again.

"How are you so sure of the specifics?"

"Uh…" Steve said rubbing the back of his neck. "There was a video."

Clint didn't say anything in response to that. After a few seconds Phil continued the explanation.

"There were two videos. The first came about an hour and a half after you were taken and the second was about two hours after that."

"That doesn't add up to eight hours," Clint said.

"We searched where you were taken and the surrounding area for six hours after you were taken before we finally got a lead," Phil said.

"Six hours?" Clint exclaimed. "What took you so long to find us?"

"Actually, if it hadn't been for our sensors picking up the explosion that Tony caused we would still be in the dark as to your whereabouts," Steve said.

"Tony caused an explosion?" Clint said, trying to keep up with everything.

"Well, we think it was Tony," Natasha said. "We picked up an explosion about an hour from where you were taken. When we got there, we found a destroyed bunker. We're pretty sure it was where you were being kept and near as we can figure, Tony somehow managed to escape and set the place to blow before getting you both out."

"Okay so six hours in captivity and an hour for you to get to the bunker. I'm still not coming up with over eight hours," Clint said, starting to get frustrated with reluctant explanations, and the nail-in-the-head headache wasn't helping his patience any.

"When we got to the bunker, there was no sign of you two. We searched the bunker before determining, or rather hoping, that you two had escaped. At that time, we didn't know that you were still unconscious. We thought that you two had gotten out of there and had probably started walking in search of help or civilization. It wasn't until after organizing aerial search teams to start scanning the desert for you, and searching for almost an hour, that we found Tony stumbling through the desert half-dragging you behind him," Phil said.

"So, basically, I owe Tony my life several times over," Clint said, "seeing as he did everything, including getting us both out of there after being tortured while I was unconscious and completely useless."

"Don't blame yourself. You would have done the same for him had your roles been reversed. And you couldn't help being unconscious" Steve said.

"Yeah I guess," Clint murmured mechanically, before falling silent in introspection.

He had been unconscious for over eight hours (which still didn't add up but he was done trying to figure that out. He just assumed that after the eight hours that had so far been accounted for he had simply been unconscious for the remaining thirty, or so, minutes while on board the helicarrier). During six of those initial eight hours, he had been in captivity, and his best friend had been tortured and he had never been aware of any of it. The pounding in Clint's head intensified as he tried to process it all, but he did his best to ignore it. His thoughts were interrupted by a doctor coming in to examine him now that he was awake.

"So, am I going to make it?" he asked with a smirk as he rubbed his forehead.

"We ran several scans of your head and brain once you were back on board and we didn't find any swelling of the brain or skull fractures," the doctor explained, "but what is concerning is that you were unconscious for so long. Are you sure you don't remember anything at all?"

Clint concentrated on the empty void of memory that was the time between his head injury and waking up a few minutes before. His head pounded at the strain but he ignored it as a murky almost dreamlike memory floated to the surface.

"I think-" he started, wincing slightly at his headache.

"What?" Natasha encouraged.

"I'm not sure if it was real or not, but I seem to remember distantly hearing Tony's voice calling my name and I think I remember feeling someone tapping me on my face but I'm not sure," Clint said.

"That's good. It sounds like you were probably at least semi conscious at some point which means your brain was at least trying to return to consciousness. To go that long without consciousness is usually an indicator of something being very wrong, but in your case it could just be that your brain needed that long to fully return to consciousness. We will need to run more tests to make sure there isn't something more severe going on than a bad blow to the head but the fact that you are awake and coherent is a good sign," the doctor said, giving Clint a reassuring smile.

Clint mumbled a 'thanks' absently as he rubbed his forehead again.

"Are you in pain, Agent Barton?" the doctor asked in concern.

"Just a headache. No big deal," Clint said, brushing off the concern.

"I'll have a nurse bring you something for it."

Clint nodded his thanks as the doctor left to order more scans.

"I want to see it," Clint said suddenly, once the doctor was gone.

"See what?" Natasha asked.

"The videos. I want to see them."

The three others shared a glance before Steve spoke.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I need to know," was Clint's reply. The others understood.

"I'll set it up," Phil agreed, fully intending to put it off for as long as possible.

"Where's Bruce and Thor?" Clint asked, finally taking notice of his friends' absence.

"Bruce is with Tony," Natasha answered. "We've all been alternating between your rooms since we were allowed to see you. That's also where Thor is. He just left a few minutes ago to check on Bruce."

"Why aren't Tony and I in the same room?" Clint asked. "It would be easier."

"While you were unconscious, they took periodic scans of your brain to be sure there was no swelling. Tony is in the ICU on the deck above us. The CT scanner is on this deck so having you here is apparently easier on everybody. Except us, of course," Natasha answered.

"We're hoping now that you're awake they'll move you at least to Tony's deck if not his room," Phil said.

"And while you get that sorted out, I can watch those videos," Clint said with a pointed look, knowing full well that Phil had every intention of stalling.

Phil just nodded resignedly and left the room.

**)()()(**

An hour later, Clint was almost finished watching the videos and feeling sicker by the minute. He was really beginning to regret having eaten.

After Phil left to get the videos, Clint's doctor had returned and Clint was taken to have another CT scan, just to be safe. Clint had gone for the scan and everything had looked all right but because he had been unconscious so long they definitely wanted to keep him for observation.

Now Clint sat on the bed, his eyes fixed on the video, as his stomach churned. Clint was no stranger to torture. It pretty much came with the territory. But to watch one of his best friends being tortured mercilessly, was a nightmare. If the men who had done that weren't already dead, then there would have been arrows with their names on them.

Clint finished watching Tony get electrocuted and dragged from the room. The video ended, leaving Clint feeling numb and the room completely silent. He just stared at the blank screen, feeling his stomach churn again. He swallowed trying to calm his stomach and took in a deep breath.

"Clint?" Natasha said quietly.

Clint just shook his head. He didn't want to talk. He _couldn't_ talk. Emotions rolled through him, anger and guilt fighting for supremacy. He was rotating between hating the terrorists, blaming himself, and feeling grateful to Tony for saving his life, when the doctor from earlier walked in.

"Good news, Agent Barton, you are to be moved to Mister Stark's room," the doctor said.

A quiet 'thanks' was all Clint was able to manage.

The doctor sent a questioning look at Natasha and she shook her head at him. The doctor decided not to ask any questions and ten minutes later, Clint was being settled in Tony's room. The rest of his team was there but one look at Clint's face and they gave him some space to sort through his emotions.

"How is he?" Clint finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

"He's improved and is off the ventilator. He should be waking up soon," Bruce replied.

"Those other burns. Where did he get those? They weren't on the tapes," Clint asked, referring to the heavily bandaged burns on Tony's arms and feet.

"He got them from walking in the desert sun for two hours," Bruce answered.

"Why didn't I get burned?" Clint asked.

There was a long pause as the team shared a look.

"What?" Clint asked.

Bruce stepped closer to Clint and sighed before breaking the news.

"You didn't get burned because Tony put his shirt and shoes on you."

Clint gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, a tidal wave of guilt crashing through him.

"What happened to my boots?" he asked.

"We don't know," Bruce said.

"What happened to his hands?"

"We don't know that either."

"What possessed him to put his shoes on me? I wasn't the one walking," Clint asked in confusion. "That's just kind of dumb."

"Well, when we found you, Tony was pretty out of it. He probably wasn't thinking real logically," Bruce said.

They all fell silent again and the silence lingered for several minutes, until it was broken by the sound of a low moan.

* * *

**Another cliffie, I know. I'm sorry, and yet I'm not sorry at all. After all, what would keep you guys coming back for more if I left every chapter nice and wrapped up? :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Wow! 'Thank you' does not seem adequate enough! I was hoping, but not really expecting, this story to make it to 100 reviews and it is well past that and we're not even done yet! Thank you guys SO much! :D**

**All right, this one might be a bit dull in places but Tony needs to fill everyone in on the details of his escape. Don't worry, though, next chapter we will have some more action and angst. **

**Chapter 10**

Tony slowly came back to awareness with a soft groan but didn't bother to open his eyes. He hurt, but not as much as he would have expected. The last time he had woken up, he had basically been in agony. This time, though he was in pain, it was muted and distant, more of an uncomfortable dull ache than outright pain. In addition to this, he felt an uncomfortable heat on his skin, like a really bad sunburn.

Great, so he was still in the desert. He had failed, and he and Clint were going to die under the hot desert sun. He would have thought he would be in more pain but he had heard on some movie that the pain faded when you were near the end. If that was true, then he must be pretty close. It really sucked too. If he was going to die, then let him stay unconscious through it. But no, he has to wake up just long enough to be aware of his death. This must be his punishment for teasing the other Avengers so mercilessly.

"Tony?"

He knew that voice. It was Bruce. Tony groaned again. This time out of frustration. As if it wasn't bad enough that he was dying, now he had to hallucinate too. Karma was so unfair sometimes.

"Come on, Tony. Wake up."

Tony cracked his eyes open and squinted at the blurry image in front of him. After a moment, his eyes adjusted and Bruce's face, which was about a foot from his own, came into focus.

"Do you not know the definition of personal space?" Tony croaked out.

Bruce backed away just a bit.

"How long?" Tony asked.

"Since you were taken? Almost nine hours," Bruce answered.

"Nine hours? He only had us for nine hours?" Tony rasped.

"No, he only had you for six. Then you were in the desert for two hours and since then, you've been unconscious here for almost an hour."

_Six hours, _Tony thought. _It felt like so much longer. _

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Hot," Tony said.

"Now is not the time for jokes, Tony," Bruce said, rolling his eyes.

"Not joking," Tony rasped, "Feel hot."

"Oh, sorry. That's probably your burns," Bruce said.

Tony opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, 'what burns,' but what actually came out was, "Thirsty."

Bruce reached over to the bedside table, grabbed a cup of water, and helped Tony drink it.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Tony answered. "How's Feathers?"

"I'm fine, Tony," Clint said.

Bruce moved so Tony could see Clint laying in a bed to the left of his own.

"Oh, yeah, now you wake up, after all the hard work is over," Tony said teasingly.

Tony knew he had said something wrong when Clint's face hardened a bit. Before either of them could say anything else, though, Natasha changed the subject.

"Tony, what happened? How did you escape?"

"By using their own stupidity against them," Tony said with a smug smirk. "They put us in a room with a door that was bolted from the outside and had no handle on the inside."

"Then how did you get out?" Steve interrupted.

"They left the hinges on the inside," Tony said, grinning.

"You unscrewed them," Clint said in understanding.

"Got it in one."

"But how did you unscrew them?" Bruce asked.

"Once again I took advantage of our captor's stupidity. They overlooked one of Bird Brain's letter openers," Tony said.

"You used used one of my knives to unscrew the hinges," Clint said, following along.

"The one from your boot, along with a lock picking set I found in your vest. Oh, and sorry but I kind of lost both of them somewhere," Tony said.

"No problem, I can get more knives and picks."

"Tony, focus. What happened after that?" Phil asked, bringing Tony back to the topic at hand.

"Oh uh, I got the hinges undone and took care of the guard outside our cell."

No one had to ask what he meant by 'took care of.'

"Was it one of the individuals who tortured you?" Thor asked, immediately knowing that was the wrong thing to say when the rest of the team each sent him a death glare.

Tony's smirk had disappeared and it was as if a door had slammed on his emotions. The only expression of any kind on his face was a reserved and closed off look that clearly said 'how do you know about that.'

"They sent us some videos," Phil said by way of explanation.

Tony remained silent, teeth gritted together, for several long minutes before speaking again in a carefully neutral tone.

"No, it wasn't either of the Tweedle Twins."

"Huh?" Bruce asked in confusion.

"That's what I called the two lackeys. Up until the escape they were the only two I saw besides their boss," Tony answered.

"Hassan," Natasha filled in.

"So that was his real name," Tony mused.

"Yes, he was-"

"Raza's brother. I know. He told me that much," Tony replied. "How'd you find out?"

"Voice recognition," Phil answered.

"Hmm. Not bad," Tony praised, starting to relax as the conversation veered away from his torture. "Not bad at all."

"So you took care of the guard…" Steve prompted.

"Yeah and I hid him in our cell. Then I grabbed Legolas and got out of there. I had the guard's gun and I went through the halls looking for an exit and taking guys out as I went. At one point, I had to duck into a room to avoid some guards and lucky me, it just happened to be the room where Poultry Boy's quiver was." Tony looked over at Clint with a teasing glint in his eye. "I knew you would never forgive me if I left your _precious_ quiver behind so I grabbed it and kept going." He looked back at the others, his expression turning serious again. "It ended up being a good idea because I was getting pretty close to the exit when I found a room full of weapons. I took two of Tweety's exploding arrows and set them on a delay. Then I hightailed it out of there. I made it a few hundred yards when the place went up. After that I took off walking," Tony finished.

"So what happened to my boots?" Clint asked.

"When the bunker blew up, a chunk of burning wood landed on your legs and set your boots on fire. I had to pull them off so you didn't get burned. So, they were kind of destroyed," Tony replied.

"Is that how you burned your hands?" Steve asked.

Tony looked down at his bandaged hands.

"Huh. I forgot about that," Tony mumbled.

If it was possible, Clint felt even more guilty.

"By the way, how did you guys find us?" Tony asked.

"You don't remember?" Phil asked.

"Remember what?"

"Us finding you," Phil answered. "You were walking out in the desert, dragging Clint, when I showed up."

"That was real?" Tony asked.

"Yes, that was real," Phil answered.

"I thought I was hallucinating."

"Is that why you tried to walk through me?" Phil asked.

"Well I didn't really feel like walking around something that wasn't really there," Tony said with a shrug. "Hey shouldn't Pepper be here?" He asked, suddenly noticing who was missing.

"She's meeting us in New York," Steve said.

"We weren't able to contact her until a couple of hours ago. She was on the west coast and had been in meetings constantly. Then her phone went dead and she forgot to charge it," Phil added.

Tony opened his mouth to say something but instead, let out a big yawn as his eyes started to droop.

"Hey, don't go to sleep yet," Bruce said. "Let me get your doctor first."

"You _are_ my doctor," Tony mumbled.

"Not that kind of doctor," Bruce said with a smile and patted Tony on the shoulder before going in search of Tony's doctor. But by the time he got back, Tony was out.

"Go ahead and let him sleep," the doctor said. "He needs it. And if I remember correctly, he's not the only one." He looked pointedly at the rest of the team.

"You four have hardly left these two," he motioned to Tony and Clint, "since they first came on board."

"He's right. You guys go get some sleep," Phil all but ordered and the others were just tired enough to obey.

They said goodbye to an already drowsy Clint and left the room to get some sleep themselves while Phil left to update Fury.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! :)**

**Next chapter we get get back to the fun stuff, like some action and maybe just a little bit more of the whump category. That's all I'm going to say. :P **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N All right guys, we are winding down now. There will only be one more chapter after this one. **

**Chapter 11**

Clint woke up sometime a few hours later and just stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes.

"One hundred twelve."

Clint turned and saw that Tony was awake as well.

"What?" the archer asked.

"One hundred twelve. The number of ceiling tiles," Tony replied.

"You've been awake awhile, huh?" Clint said with a smirk.

"About an hour," Tony replied.

They fell into a companionable silence for several minutes until Clint cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly.

"Tony. I-"

"Don't say it," Tony said, cutting him off. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But-"

"No buts, Clint," Tony said, cutting him off again.

Clint remained silent, a bit surprised by Tony's use of his first name. Tony usually called him by some stupid nickname. He hardly ever used his actual name. Only when he was having one of his rare, completely serious moments, did Tony call pretty much anyone by their actual names.

"Look, you're my friend. You needed my help. That's all there is to it," Tony stated matter-of-fact.

For a full minute, the room was quiet again.

"Thanks Tony," Clint said, sincerity filling his tone.

Nothing else was said after that. The two of them had settled what was between them and no more needed to be said on the subject.

The easy silence remained undisturbed until Clint heard the door open and looked to see an orderly walk in. He heard Tony suck in a breath and looked at the billionaire. Tony was staring at the orderly with a look of fear. Clint looked back at the orderly in confusion and was about to ask Tony what was wrong...

Then he saw the knife in the orderly's hand.

**)()()(**

Night fell, and after several hours, the deck had cleared enough for Hassan to leave the jet unnoticed. He made his way inside and managed to keep from being seen as he worked his way toward where he thought the medical ward to be. His guess was confirmed as he saw an orderly walking down the hall. He ducked into a room to hide and found himself to be in a supply room. Having a sudden idea, he grabbed a set of scrubs and quickly changed into them.

He stepped back out of the room, his knife hidden under his clothes and continued up the hall. He wandered the floor before deciding that his two targets must be on a different level. He went to the elevator and waited for the car to arrive, only for the doors to open to reveal two SHIELD personnel.

"You going to Stark's and Barton's floor?" one of the men asked.

"Yes," Hassan answered, marveling at his luck as the SHIELD man pushed the button for him as he stepped onto the elevator.

He got off on his floor and, before long, he found his way to Stark's and Barton's room. He slipped inside and saw both Barton and Stark laying in beds against the far wall. The two men were talking quietly, completely unaware of the terrorist's presence. Hassan's lips turned up in an evil smirk. He was about to get his revenge. He reached under his shirt, pulled out his knife, and stepped forward.

**)()()(**

Clint leapt out of bed and grabbed Hassan's wrist, stopping the knife from slashing forward and into a helpless Tony. Clint and Hassan struggled for a minute until Clint was able to smash Hassan's hand against a nearby table, causing the terrorist to drop the knife. Hassan took a swing at Clint's face but the archer evaded it and sent a knee into Hassan's stomach. Hassan dove at Clint, ramming his shoulder into the archer's torso, and slamming him into the wall.

Clint responded by kicking Hassan's feet out from under him, but the terrorist still had a hold of Clint and they both went sprawling to the floor. They grappled for a few seconds before Hassan got the upper hand and managed to get on top of Clint. Then he grabbed the archer's head a proceeded to slam it into the floor. He did it once, then again, then a third time. Clint's ears rang and his vision swam. He couldn't get enough leverage to get Hassan off of him so he reached out, feeling for anything to use as a weapon. Suddenly his fingers encountered a smooth wooded surface and his hand closed around the hilt of Hassan's knife. Without hesitation, Clint drove the knife into Hassan's chest before the terrorist could slam his head into the floor again. For a moment, Hassan sat frozen, a look of surprise on his face, before he slumped forward. Clint shoved the now dead man off of him and laid on the floor, panting for breath as his head pounded and the room spun sickeningly.

"Clint? Clint, talk to me," he distantly heard Tony say.

The best Clint was able to do was moan as his stomach decided to join his head and eyes in revolt. His breathing became labored and irregular as he struggled to draw in enough air. Distantly, he thought he heard more voices but he couldn't be sure as the ringing in his ears grew louder. Clint blinked, trying to clear his vision only to be overwhelmed by dizziness, which proved to be the final straw for his stomach. He rolled onto his side in time to lose everything in his stomach. He vaguely felt hands on his back and head as his stomach contracted over and over, long after it was empty. He just couldn't stop. It just wouldn't stop. His blurry vision began to give way to darkness around the edges and after what seemed like a lifetime, his stomach stopped. His body relaxed, going completely slack on the floor. The darkness at the edges of his vision grew and unconsciousness took over once more.

**)()()(**

There isn't anything more terrifying than seeing someone you care about experience something life threatening. That was Bruce's opinion anyway.

He had been on his way to Clint's and Tony's room to check on his friends, and had reached the doorway just in time to hear sounds of a struggle inside. He entered just in time to see Clint's head get slammed into the floor by Hassan, followed by Clint shoving a knife into Hassan's chest. Bruce stood stunned, staring at the dead body now laying next to his friend.

"Clint? Clint talk to me," Bruce heard Tony say.

Tony's only answer was a moan from Clint and that was enough to shake Bruce out of his shock and send him moving to Clint's side as the archer began to throw up.

"Bruce, what's wrong?" Tony asked from where he laid, helplessly, in his bed.

"I'm not sure yet," Bruce called back.

Actually, Bruce had a pretty good idea, he just didn't want to voice it until he was sure. Clint was already recovering from a head wound and he just got his head slammed into the floor at least once. Bruce rubbed Clint's back, comfortingly, with one hand and ran the other over the back of Clint's head feeling for damage, his hand coming away bloody. Clint threw up for a couple of minutes before he stopped and went limp on the floor.

"Clint?" Bruce asked.

He gently rolled Clint over onto his back just in time to see Clint's eyes before they fluttered closed. It was enough to make the scientist's heart stop.

Clint's pupils were two different sizes.

* * *

**A/N What? You didn't think I would pass up the chance at one last cliffhanger did you? :P**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Okay, we have reached the end. Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing! Enjoy! :)**

**Chapter 12**

"What happened?" Steve asked as Bruce walked into the room.

Steve, Natasha, Thor, and Phil were in Tony's room. It had been about an hour since Clint passed out. Hassan's body had been removed, the room had been cleaned up, and they were waiting for news on the archer's condition. During that time, Bruce had been with the doctors as they examined and treated Clint.

"He has swelling in his brain and he's unconscious," Bruce said.

"Why? I thought once he woke up he was supposed to be okay," Steve asked.

"For someone already recovering from a head injury it is very dangerous to receive another blow to the head and according to Tony, Clint's head was hit against the floor three times. That caused his brain to start swelling," Bruce explained.

"What about the blood?" Tony asked.

"It was from a minor cut on the back of his head. Scalp wounds bleed like crazy but are usually non life-threatening," Bruce assured.

"So, he's going to be okay. Right?" Phil asked.

"It's not that simple. Swelling of the brain is not something to be taken lightly. It is very serious," Bruce said. "The skull doesn't expand, so when the brain swells there is no room for it to go, so pressure is put on the brain and that can prevent the brain from getting enough oxygen, which can lead to coma, brain damage, and even death. Right now Clint's brain isn't swollen enough to need surgery, but if the swelling increases, the doctors may have to drill a hole in his skull to relieve the pressure."

At the horrified looks on his friends faces, Bruce was quick to distract them from the images he was sure were going though their minds.

"But we think the medication we have him on will be enough. He's already responding well to it."

"So when can we see him?" Natasha asked.

"They should be here in a few minutes," Bruce said.

"They are still going to keep him here?" Thor asked, expecting Clint to be in the room he was in the last time he was unconscious.

"Yes, he needs the extra supervision that the ICU provides. Now I want to prepare all of you for when he gets here. His breathing became irregular and insufficient, so he was put on a ventilator to help support him," Bruce said.

No sooner than Bruce finished talking, Clint was wheeled into the room and his bed was placed next to Tony's. The archer was a sight to behold. He was unconscious and on a ventilator, his head was bandaged, and in a word, he looked pitiful.

"Okay Bruce, bottom line, where do we stand?" Steve demanded.

"We wait and see. We monitor the swelling in Clint's brain and we wait for change whether good or bad. Tony is improving well and as long as he doesn't develop infection in his burns then he'll be fine with time. That's where we stand right now," Bruce stated.

Steve gave a short nod and he, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Phil, and Tony settled in to wait. It wasn't long before fatigue got the best of Tony and he fell asleep again. A short while after Tony fell asleep, Fury appeared to check on both men and informed the rest of the team that SHIELD techs had discovered security footage that showed Hassan coming off of one of the quinjets that had been present when Tony and Clint were found.

Fury soon took his leave, leaving the others to fall into silence once again. It was supposed to be over when Tony and Clint were found. They had both regained consciousness and were on the mend. Everything was fine and then this happened and everything was turned upside down again. How much more were Tony and Clint expected to endure?

These thoughts and others swirled through the minds of the five people who sat vigil over their two injured friends. Friends who were an integral part of the unorthodox family know as the Avengers.

**)()()(**

Over the next couple hours, Clint steadily improved. Under the watchful eyes of Bruce, and Clint's doctor, the swelling in his brain receded and they were able to take him off the ventilator. But where Clint improved, Tony began to decline.

He began to have horrible nightmares. Who wouldn't? Tony had been rescued. He was on the helicarrier. He was healing. Then the safety of his hospital room is shattered when his torturer shows up and tries to kill him, nearly taking the life of a friend in the process. Who wouldn't start having nightmares?

Tony would fall asleep for about fifteen minutes before he would wake screaming. Then he would try to stay awake as long as he could, but with his injured body it was only about five or ten minutes before the fatigue became too much to fight and he fell asleep, only to wake up before getting anywhere near the amount of sleep his body needed. So his healing slowed to a crawl as the circles under his eyes grew darker, and yet Tony acted like nothing was wrong and refused to talk about it. Bruce even arranged for Tony to talk to Pepper on the phone as she flew to meet them in New York in the hopes that she could get him to open up, but there was no such luck.

Finally, Bruce could stand it no longer. He knew it was nearly impossible that Tony would accept his help and if he could figure out how to make a pig fly then Tony might open up and talk to him. Bruce was loathe to force Tony to sleep by sedating him but if it came to it Bruce would do what he had to. He wouldn't stand by and let one of his friends suffer. Bruce had one last approach he wanted to try but if it was going to work then he had to be firm, stubborn, and completely unyielding. Basically, he had to be Tony (or Clint who at times could be just as stubborn as the billionaire).

He walked into Clint's and Tony's room and went to Clint's bed first. He picked up Clint's chart and skimmed over it before going over to Tony. This way it looked like he was there to check on Clint and Tony was just something extra rather than his main focus. He wandered over and sat in the chair next to Tony's bed. Said billionaire was awake (no surprise there) and staring at the ceiling. He turned and looked at Bruce as the scientist sat down.

"How're you feeling?" Bruce asked.

"'M Fine," Tony replied and it was all Bruce could do to not roll his eyes.

Sure Tony was fine. That's why he had dark circles under his eyes and looked like the living dead. Obviously, Bruce didn't voice any of this.

"So, what's up?" Tony asked.

Bruce knew he had to play it cool or Tony would see right through him. Fortunately, he had thought this through already.

"I was just checking on Clint."

"How is Tweety?"

"He's doing a lot better. The swelling has almost completely gone down and his vitals are good. He should be waking up soon. Then we can know for sure if there was any damage to his brain," Bruce explained.

Tony nodded and they lapsed into silence as Tony tried to stay awake.

"Tony, we need to talk," Bruce said at last.

"I'm tired. Can we talk later?" Tony asked, fully expecting Bruce to leave him alone.

"No, Tony. We can't talk about it later. This has to stop," Bruce said.

"To what are you referring?" Tony asked smartly.

"You know very well what I'm talking about!" Bruce snapped. "You're hardly sleeping, when you do you have nightmares, and your recovery has stalled. You need to talk to someone. It doesn't have to be a shrink," Bruce said quickly as Tony sent him a look. "You can talk to me if you want, but you _have_ to talk."

"Nothing to talk about," Tony mumbled, turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Bull!" Bruce said. "You and I both know that's crap!"

Bruce sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose when Tony remained silent and refused to even look at him.

"All right. I didn't want to have to do this but you've left me no choice. I'm going to have your doctor give you something to make you sleep."

"What! You can't do that!" Tony exploded, but rather than anger as his tone suggested, Bruce only saw fear in Tony's eyes.

"Tony, you need sleep," Bruce said gently. "You can't keep this up. Your body can't keep this up. Something's got to give and I don't want it to be your health. So either you talk this out or you get sedated," Bruce finished, his voice hardening again. When it came to his friends' health he didn't play the nice guy.

"I-" Tony cut off gritting his teeth and looking anywhere but at Bruce.

"Tony, I'm your friend. I'm not going to judge you or think badly of you for having nightmares after going through something traumatic. Please, don't shut me out," Bruce was aware he sounded like he was begging but, frankly, he was out of ideas.

"There are different ones," Tony said quietly, still unable to meet Bruce's eyes. "Sometimes I'm back there and I'm being tortured again. Sometimes I escape into the desert or even make it back to the helicarrier before he finds me again and takes me back and it all starts again. And then there are the ones when it's not me."

"What do you mean, 'not you'?" Bruce asked in a soft voice.

"It's Clint. He's the one being tortured and I can't stop it or we're here and we're safe and we're talking when _he_ comes in with a knife and Clint tries to stop him. Sometimes it's like what happened and Clint get's the knife and kills him, but then he dies from his head wound. Other times he never gets a hold of the knife and Hassan bludgeons him to death. Either way, it always ends the same. With Clint dead and me unable to do anything to help."

Bruce sighed wearily. It was worse then he thought. "Tony, you know it wasn't your fault right? None of it was."

"I'm the one he wanted, Bruce. I'm the one who killed his brother. And I'm the one who ticked him off by escaping. Clint was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and yet he is laying there unconscious with a head injury and it's all because of me."

"No it's not," Bruce said, starting to get fed up with Tony's propensity for blaming himself for every bad thing that ever happens to anyone.

That was the one thing that drove him crazy about Tony, Clint, and, really, the entire team. They always wanted to blame themselves for things that were completely out of their control. But at the same time, Bruce supposed he was no different.

"You told me yourself that it was a trap," Bruce said. "Hassan planned it all out, and he knew you would have someone with you. That's the way we work and he knew that. He was always going to take one of us with you. It just happened to be Clint. And before you say it, no, there was no way you could have known or foreseen it being a trap. You may be a genius but you are not a mind reader and you cannot see the future. Now stop with the guilt trip over something you had no control over and share no blame for whatsoever. If you're going to have nightmares then have nightmares about what happened to you, not what _didn't_ happen to Clint. Okay?" Bruce asked, staring at Tony until the billionaire finally met his eyes.

Tony gave a slight imperceptible nod.

"Good. Now go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up," Bruce commanded in the same no nonsense tone that left Tony no room for comment.

Tony found it strange to hear his calm, passive friend sound so authoritative. This had never really happened before so he wasn't quite sure how to respond to that and to be honest, he was too tired to figure it out. He thought maybe his brain was finally straying into insanity due to lack of sleep. After all, Bruce never gave orders or got so in-your-face. Tony decided that maybe things would make more sense after he got some sleep and his brain was actually functioning again. So he did as Bruce said, or rather ordered, and laid back, closed his eyes, and was asleep in seconds.

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief as the heart monitor indicated that Tony was asleep. Once Tony was asleep, Bruce got up and retrieved a book he had laid on a nearby table. He return to his seat beside Tony, open his book, and settled in to wait. Now that the biggest challenge was out of the way, he just needed to make sure Tony stayed asleep. So for the next hour, he watched closely for signs of Tony having a nightmare. He actually made it a little over an hour before his face scrunched up and he started to mumble incoherently. Bruce reached over and gently laid a hand on Tony's arm and spoke softly to the sleeping man. Bruce focused more on his tone than what he said so what came out of his mouth was mostly nonsensical gibberish but his tone and touch seemed to do the trick and Tony relaxed once more.

Bruce kept a close eye on Tony over the next several hours. He only had two other nightmares both of which Bruce was able to quell like the first. In that time, the rest of the team came and gave Bruce company and brought him food. Pepper arrived back in New York and joined the group, but Bruce made sure no one woke Tony since the billionaire was finally getting more than a few minutes sleep.

Tony ended up sleeping a full eight hours and awoke to the sight of Pepper, Bruce, Steve, Natasha, and Thor, sitting in various positions in their chairs, surrounding his bed, and all completely dead to the world. Phil was also there but the SHIELD agent was awake and looking at him. As he looked at the five sleeping figures, an idea struck him and he just couldn't resist. He looked at Phil with a gleam in his eye and the SHIELD agent knew exactly what the billionaire was thinking. Phil reached over and grabbed Tony's cellphone off the bedside table and handed it to the man. Tony nodded his appreciation before turning the phone toward the sleeping people and snapping a couple pictures of the group. He grinned widely as Bruce stirred and opened his eyes. Bruce took one look at Tony's 'cat that ate the canary' grin and the phone in his hand and groaned, which caused the rest of the team to stir.

They woke up, saw Tony and the camera, and groaned themselves. If it was possible, Tony's grin grew wider and he started laughing. The sound of Tony's laughter caused Pepper to wake up.

"Tony!" she cried and threw her arms around him.

"Hey, Pepper," Tony said, hugging her back and giving her a kiss, before she returned to her seat beside his bed, holding tightly to his hand. "Since you're here I assume you made it back to New York. How long was I out?"

"Eight hours," Bruce replied.

"Have you been here the whole time?" Tony asked.

Bruce just shrugged, and even though Tony didn't say anything, Bruce could see the gratitude in the billionaire's eyes and his lips turned up in a small smile.

"So, any news on Tail Feather?" Tony asked.

"I heard that," a sluggish voice groaned from a few feet away.

"Clint!" seven voices chorused in unison as well as Tony's call of "Feathers!"

"No need to shout, 'm right here," Clint mumbled, his eyes still closed.

Everyone except Tony, who was still in bed, jumped up and ran over to Clint's bedside.

"Clint?" Natasha called.

"'M awake."

"Yeah, you really look like it," Tony said.

"Shut up, Tony," Clint mumbled back.

"Open your eyes and make me," Tony shot back.

Clint opened his eyes just enough to glare at the irritating billionaire.

"Much better," Tony said, to which Clint stuck his tongue out in response.

"At least we know there's no brain damage," Tony said. "Well, at least no more than usual."

"Clint how do you feel?" Bruce asked, cutting off the argument before it could start.

"Like I'm ready to kill someone," Clint replied.

"Anyone in particular?" Natasha asked.

"The guy with the jackhammer."

"What guy with a jackhammer?" Steve asked.

"The one in my head," Clint replied.

"I do not under-"

"I'll explain it to you later," Bruce interrupted, patting Thor on the shoulder.

"It's good to see you both awake," Fury said in that neutral voice of his as he walked into the room.

Tony glared at the director and Clint squinted stonily, neither man replying.

"Doctor, how are they doing?" Fury asked, turning his attention to Bruce.

"Tony's doing all right. Clint just now woke up but he's coherent so that's good," Bruce stated simply.

"Good," Fury replied.

If Tony didn't know better, he would have sworn the director actually looked a little uncomfortable. Must have been the pain medication messing with his head.

"I have some things to take care of, I just wanted to come by and see how the two of you were coming along. Agent Coulson, keep me updated," Fury ordered.

"Yes, sir," Phil replied as Fury turned to leave the room.

"Hey, Fury," Tony called suddenly, causing the director to stop and turn back around, "The next time you get a mission to Afghanistan, don't tell me about it unless you want to lose you're other eye," Tony said without an ounce of humor.

It was a testament to how responsible for the situation Fury must have felt when, instead of snapping some sort of reply or threat at Tony, he simply gave a sharp nod before leaving the room.

**)()()(**

Clint was kept for another two weeks, which, according to his doctors, was being appropriately cautious after a serious head injury, but according to Clint was overkill.

Needless to say, by the time he was released, the archer was practically climbing the walls and the doctors were more than happy to turn him loose. He still came back everyday to visit Tony, though, who didn't get off quite so lucky.

The nightmares slacked off and disappeared altogether but due to his burns, the doctors pumped him full of antibiotics to stave off infection and kept him for another two weeks after Clint was released. If the archer had been climbing the walls, Tony was about ready to tear them down just to escape.

The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that Pepper and each of his teammates would visit him at different times throughout the day and distract him or in some cases, forcibly keep him from escaping. That, and the fact that his feet were still burned badly enough to make walking pretty much impossible, thus making escaping possible only if he managed to get a hold of a wheelchair and make a roll for it, were the only things keeping him in that room.

Finally, though, the doctors deemed him well enough to finish recuperating at home, much to his delight, and the team's sense of impending doom. For the next two weeks, Tony became the Avenger's headache, having them wait on him hand and foot and milking it for all he was worth. Now don't misunderstand, the team cared about Tony. He was their friend and a member of their little makeshift family, but even the closest family member can drive someone to want to strangle them.

Fortunately, Tony was just at that threshold when he was allowed to start walking again and thus became a whole lot less insufferable.

Steadily, Tony and Clint recovered until they were back to one-hundred percent again. A few weeks later, Tony was on board the helicarrier so the doctors could check him over one last time and declare him fit for Avenger duties. He had just finished up his appointment and was walking down the hall when he saw Clint coming toward him. One look at the archer and Tony knew something was wrong. Clint was visibly seething over something.

"Hey, what's rubbed you the wrong way?" Tony asked, his face showing some concern.

"Fury!" Clint spat.

Tony would be lying through his teeth if he said he was surprised. "What'd Old Man River do now?"

"He had the nerve to ask me to go on a mission near Kandahar!" Clint replied.

"What'd you say?" Tony asked.

"I didn't say anything. I just decked him," Clint stated matter-of-fact.

The look on Tony's face could only be described as gleeful but his tone remained nonchalant when he spoke.

"Good, saved me the trouble. You think you'll be punished?"

"I better not. He had it coming and he knows it. Besides, what can he do?"

"He could fire you."

"Eh, it's only my part-time job anyway," Clint said with a shrug.

"What's your full time job?" Tony asked.

"Keeping you out of trouble."

"Hate to break it to you Robin Hawk, but you kind of suck at it."

"I know," Clint admitted. "But I do a lot better than most people."

"True," Tony agreed. "Well, if he does punish you, this time, I'll keep you company through whatever you have to do," Tony promised.

Clint looked at him in surprise a moment. "Thanks, Tony."

"Hey, what are friends for? And besides, I'll have no choice but to keep you company, because if Fury does punish you, then I'm going to have Jarvis photoshop a picture of him and make it look like he's wearing a tutu. Then I'm going to hack into SHIELD and program the computers to show that picture on every single screen on the ship while the speakers play Swan Lake. Then I'm gonna deck him too."

"You know, I wouldn't mind seeing that, whether he punishes me or not," Clint said with a chuckle.

An evil grin spread across Tony's face, which was quickly mirrored by Clint. Then the two of them took off up the hall, Tony's phone already in hand as Clint threw out ideas to make their revenge that much sweeter.

**END**

**A/N Leave me one last review and let me know what you think! :)**


End file.
